4.

No people don’t have feelings that’s just

how things speak all the rocks in

Estonia a violin heavy on the knees

that crazy dance of moving in all this

I was walking down the street and there 

she was the lady I had been all along

an apocalypse after forgetting.

Haunts the music teaching me to

remember, the way you pull your scarves tight

movement wise with the last of sun

we don’t know when the dance is and knowing 

lose all the good sense that wasn’t ours.

5. 

Green gazelle on the Persian rug of my

mind, steps high like a gazelle, snowed in

sulking in your living room and the green dance

unconstrained, unkept, always for the first time

green eloquence in my absence friend this

swift articulator genius of its place finds

its place far from your knowing needs no looking

after no abandonment is this fluent but the 

cramp in your foot the word in your eye 

a malefic pleasure like Prokofiev’s even 

like Brahms and you thought that was melody

zap! the lie of Being delivers up flagrant colors.