Jac Nelson
YELLOW BICYCLE AND GLASS what polemic what architecture … what polemic what architecture … what … what WAYWARD OR WINDOW IN THE NIGHT WARD, VIEW OF THE WET COMPLEX OR HAIRPINS LOST ON THE WAY indeed something – something which was in a shell which was in a shell (something like a pith, in a walnut shell, in the shell of κοσμός) – something had loved you. LANGOUROUS FLIGHT IN THE HUMANLESS MEADOW dead with light, dead with silence and wind, the boundaries of the fauna paths melt under the wide mouth of the vacuous heart.* *“heart” must stand in place of another word, which we don’t have, but by which we would understand something inside which is at once | both a source of emanation and a lake of return, or body of return, (though it is no lake, nor body, nor heart). THIS IS NOT A RECORD OF WHAT HAPPENED in an airplane, the tape rewinds, then runs forward again over itself. THE POET RUNS FROM THE POETIC EYE this poet – this deranged and naked lung, or Fury on panicked feet – this poet comes screaming out from some deprived envelope, waving briny hands, frantic, the poet has lost it, a lunatic. the Poetic Eye is an entirely different creature, a cold scanner, making: this object is not gray this object is not black draining: |