III
on considering if I'd fall for John Berryman too
on considering if I'd fall for John Berryman too
if i'd waited up would i
have known you’d changed
would I have known
it takes more than one
finger dipped into the
lake
to consider it
swimming?
The distance
between his lip speaking
and her ear
and her ear
hearing.
The swirl of
dirt-
and the one streak
of gray when you say, you say: walking between silence
and noise is like stepping into
a
window
after
the stone’s been thrown and the one
mountain
of a shard is Hokusai’s Fuji,
is the snow
mountain
of a shard is Hokusai’s Fuji,
is the snow
peaked, a pinch
of firming
until the
distance is... and...
and forgive me
but a mere blush
seems to lift the glass
up out of the flake
of putty
of putty
to throw it into
the night
where if no one
is careful, you know, the barefoot ones, having not heard
the breaking,
walk
along feeling dew, dew
while their smooching soles
depart, red as his friend's wheel-
barrow.
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