Raymond Farr
Apparitional States
2.
Dusk—
& night roaring in
& beyond it—
The teeth of it!
The stinging
Holy ghost
Of yr face!
We were losing
The poem
The scrape of
Loose gravel
Against our shoes
Rattled like a snake
In the stiff air
I wanted you
Broken in two
Pieces once
I wanted to
Habituate
The moment
To its silence
& be done with
Violent
Permutations
& that was
The big in-joke
I was always
Clearing
A path for myself
Tripping
After you
In the darkness
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2.
Dusk—
& night roaring in
& beyond it—
The teeth of it!
The stinging
Holy ghost
Of yr face!
We were losing
The poem
The scrape of
Loose gravel
Against our shoes
Rattled like a snake
In the stiff air
I wanted you
Broken in two
Pieces once
I wanted to
Habituate
The moment
To its silence
& be done with
Violent
Permutations
& that was
The big in-joke
I was always
Clearing
A path for myself
Tripping
After you
In the darkness