The Inferno
(via William Bennett Gallery)
“That This”
Day is a type when visible
objects change then put
on form but the anti-type
That thing not shadowed
The way music is formed of
cloud and fire once actually
concrete now accidental as
half truth or as whole truth
Is light anything like this
stray pencil commonplace
copy as to one aberrant
onward-gliding mystery
A secular arietta variation
Grass angels perish in this
harmonic collision because
non-being cannot be ‘this’
Not spirit not space finite
Not infinite to those fixed—
That this millstone as such
Quiet which side on which—
Is one mind put into another
in us unknown to ourselves
by going about among trees
and fields in moonlight or in
a garden to ease distance to
fetch home spiritual things
That a solitary person bears
witness to law in the ark to
an altar of snow and every
age or century for a day is
-Susan Howe
Steal oil and you might become a child requiring its nourishment. Or so the legend goes….
(via Gitoku)
“Lunar Baedecker”
A silver Lucifer
serves
cocaine in cornucopia
To some somnambulists
of adolescent thighs
draped
in satirical draperies
Peris in livery
prepare
Lethe
for posthumous parvenues
Delirious Avenues
lit
with the chandelier souls
of infusoria
from Pharoah’s tombstones
lead
to mercurial doomsdays
Odious oasis
in furrowed phosphorous—
the eye-white sky-light
white-light district
of lunar lusts
—Stellectric signs
“Wing shows on Starway”
“Zodiac carrousel”
Cyclones
of ecstatic dust
and ashes whirl
crusaders
from hallucinatory citadels
of shattered glass
into evacuate craters
A flock of dreams
browse on Necropolis
From the shores
of oval oceans
in the oxidized Orient
Onyx-eyed Odalisques
and ornithologists
observe
the flight
of Eros obsolete
And “Immortality”
mildews…
in the museums of the moon
“Nocturnal cyclops”
“Crystal concubine”
——-
Pocked with personification
the fossil virgin of the skies
waxes and wanes—-
-Mina Loy
(via poets.org)