741 Readings

News from the Next World

If I was sick, I am now
Well. If I was half, I am now
Whole. Bring down the night, bring up the
the first light, the first ocean, the first news. Your
Hand will turn the dial, your hand will turn the noise
From silence to white to the next. I
Love your lines as you walk forth not because
You are brave like the evening’s first
Star, but because you are not: the darkness
Is a space for careful burning, not
Blazing: if you singe your hands, you
Singe mine. In this way, love is under the
Cradle, the cocoon, the quiet front covered
With quiet snow: every spring we find
What was gone was not dead.

If I continue
To know myself like bird knows aviation,
If I continue
To open the shell and eat the fruit,
If I continue
To rise with the sinking moon
Every morning then we will agree on a
Daughter, on a son, on a ticking for the clock,
On a case for each complete with lock: on parasol,
Not penumbra. We will agree the tree
Should love itself as much as it loves the
Rain, as much as they each love the
Earth, as much as the earth loves the
Orbit. I love your lines as you walk—

I can hear static from the radio
In the cellar. Broadcast:
Posted 06/03/11
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