Eumaeus 646
As if there was ever a dog
chained to a horse
as if there were bones
inquiring noises made famous
by particular Queens
who bound themselves in illusions
as if there were sorrow
in flying over the blue horizon
as if in this toy ship
adrift in the desert
reflected in the wisdom of the sky
as if there were evidence of dancing
tonight in holy peril
as if this horror were an instrument
of recall a dark artist
training creation for its
debut as if it were an alligator
as if it were an emergency
as if it were a swarm of bees
as if
Eumaeus 647
Mother's music sung in future tense
sang sung a murder come understood
but not distinct
in clothy purpose penny fashioned from old songs
highly passion wordy even more the sea sea
nodding read the near sky
the empty sky
the blessed, attended sky
where beautiful sonics command their notes
to be infallible
sky-sirens and
sea-sirens bargain
for translations that arrive from the deep blue beyond
in right minded ships
bearing for the edge of the world
Die Welt Ist Schon
Eumaeus 648
You have decided the rut of dignity
and taken a place in the yoke of the uncommon
your plan was for reason
but the cards all came up empty
how handy for it to be decided for you
you go to the show
upstairs in a house that
has no second floor
it was a matter of air, right?
it was a career containing little
foreseen in different literature
practiced procrastination
and forthcoming of foot and nose
opening life
for accidents of spacetime
it was speaking for the seasons
it was helped by an embrace
Eumaeus 649
So this is how the swineherd ends
the character dwindles sleeping
into his last oh wow oh wow oh wow
nasty pretexts proud
mired under the scythe the
feather the humble light no longer noticed.
We are practitioners of memory
and our practice is imperfect
intended as private joke the word
spin from heads of streetly gardeners,
who say goodnight to all the
ships and bridges
Goodnight, Eumaeus.
For Brad Bird