The Progress of Summer

Eumaeus 612

This morning:

A dream of ocean separates the island of sleep

from the obligations of the morning

the hour sides, though, with the knife's design.

every pill creates its toll,

every name an accident; exceedingly grand in fancy-

but really putty in the true world of daylight.

Excellent travelers build wives from mud

only to watch them fall from the corners of the earth

at the very first opportunity.

this morning I waited for a signal

to begin my own falling

through a delightful system of steam

through a house in the shape of a ship

through the locality of summertime

and the progress of August

seeing nothing but sticks I named the day

in honor of my eye.

Eumaeus 613

God is in Stilettos

amongst all you goats

she broke the secrets of invincibility

then hid them from herself and

we, in danger, don't know when

we cross beneath the shadow of her mighty hand

and face the storm.

Horror and sorrow snap the blade

and give rise to works of art

made by drowsy dreamers

stained in perfect silence

leaving behind only a question of memory

and wondering,

Where is the world?

The Normal Speed and Stance Of A Stranger

Eumaeus 609

a ship's reflection

growls on the water

husband neighbor and rainwife falter

flinching toward the world

and china, an anchor bitten

a morning navigated

with handy document you are a confirmer

your statement's remainders constructed of

clocks and mariners

them who richly deserve these

ferocious waters

their queer mouth manners left quivering in

certain disaster these growlers

with iceberg for hands and shifting arrivals

stay eating cradles discharged from chewing

and chewed become a fluke of their masters

all crowns and requests and plenty of bowing

coming on knees to spit fire

at maneaters remaining while still

being paid off at noon.

Eumaeus 610

Let's not talk of corpses nor

livers nor horses nor

tricks of breadgraters

eaters of diddies and raw loined

remainers not to say nothing of

fictitious discrepants who trick fate

and box up lurid surprises

and boggle us with fictitious seas

extensively travelled in volunteer boats

with suspicious hearts

and picture postcards of holy friends

childrenless exhibited longcherished

Wednesdays with narration

inquired of notice

with particular matter depicted.

Eumaeus 611

the line of need crosses the

isles of rage these days

where pleasure moves in circular shape

and sunspots point to opportunity

and tours of regret.

and we, the blameless, the luckless the joyless system

dwellers we keep our pace

with usual success

our fogeydom renewed and placed

between the summer and the street

O, Babylon your sweet schemes

make our acquaintance with

absurd sweetness.

The Soft Edges of Metempsychosis

Eumaeus 606

Attention-

raging singing at your reflection

sheltered in the cup of Abraham

your belladonna some concoction of rapt attention

its language Antediluvian

a poetry of the dead

a dissatisfied yawn a bloodless, quiet act

a reflection of quandary

a speech of sailors

the stare of the broken eye

attention-

these inward labels appear temporary

and have something to do

with our acquaintance with ice

Eumaeus 607

I asked for the night

and was shouted down

a gunshot at the sea

apparently, the water speaks my common name.

I asked for an eye

and some excessive feature

guessed my age

stared at pictures of the dead

and disregarded the weather

I asked for a drink

and newcomerjesus

sank heavily beneath the waves

body bound and turned around

Agony clutching a phony Irish cross.

Eumaeus 608

A face at the nameless window

has a story

like all stories this one has magic

and all stories are about

homecoming

and memory

but this story is like a diamond and

you name your diamond astonishment

then, like all good mariners, you

sail into the beautiful sunrise

and greet the awful, perfect day.