in the dream fragments of images gather and condense, contract your figure emerges then suddenly stops a red shirt, jacket the color of jade, glasses that frame eyes as radiant suns you greet me with smiles, no introduction we know each other how can this be, R.? i’ve read your books and you’ve been dead […]

They shut me up For Treason Him It is That We wonder it was not Of Portion — so unconscious There breathed a Man Could He — know — they Could They — know Horrid Neither — could be heard Oh, Reward When One who died for Truth

At the end of the night, night. Night again. Another night. Or do I say that it’s still night, night continued. Part of me — not quite my original face — would love to. And months approach like stones.

creek bed’s collected reeds exchange shape with light with water                               •                               upturned trunk’s roots caulked by moss, mud, what sun a web snags                                                             •                                                             mud- blackened creek bank’s drainage pipe’s rolled r’s                                                             •                                                             stone wall a few ferns fallen          there                              in place                                                             • […]

from Kate’s collection umber as interior hard angles combust the lines the lines christ I fall apart at scenes like this the colors o             the colors

Back away from and so into you — your every bone in flames — as if deep dim human ruin came to news you’d want to freeze.