+++
By the time we reached the stable it was that time
of year the sun wobbles free of its namesake
and reclines fully clothed on its late northern sofa
and embers convalescing in heaps echo the colors
too happy to share the first outer lips of the trees
blasting in their speech tells a cautionary tale
ending in ice and ice in all its final say
sentences each mimic to the blue voids on a robe
such is my howitzer as I scan the world's precedent
for moods form and changing shape every slow
falling gavel and spiraling decree nothing can be
numerated by any commission endless architecture
clips barbs latches and spires even the separate atoms
woe to be counted when a mountain with so many
unburdens itself hearing cries from the buried ones
failing inside a mouth clogged with it recalls my own
failure to ever capture in words the whitened season
+++
Before Julia turned maiden
she brought one of her sisters
to the resting motion school
where I was finally conceived
and rejoice never having been
frozen obstinate singing No
to the tradition where death
opens a kingdom
+++
Sometimes do I wonder is Julia a rethought
sensual being feigning nature eclipsing smell
thinking each part of me was imported the dilemma
retrieving indigenous strains a wide spread festoon
naked figures all repeating the same aspect
same ram-basting population in service to others
I saw them inside lindrical patterns
they give new meaning to the aster
shown to his eye to his eye's black recess
independent of spring there's new life in the study
an attractive newcomer she's a building
but with her clothes off you wouldn't know it
there's war in the east side of the building
inspired in part by my own spring temperament
and observers they make use to stay equivalents
and me to find what space does away with