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