Forts

Broken down, the All
was noplace, collectively
rather-scattering
That there is no longer
meaning
there is no there there
no such thing as a moral hunter
there will never be
a thing
that is
wholly itself alone
and shatter-proof. 
There was nothing to see
that would help us
recognize entanglement
as a knot to be undone. 




Artwork by Salvador Rosa (1615-1673) in Public Domain. 

Cords work

Cords work

themselves into fetal knots

while dust collects

Itself.

Boxes commonly contain cherished contents

to be kept out of touch, like death and memory.

Musicians and writers make notes 

and draw out descriptions,

Artists picture

new sound, reason, 

and likeness in the jagged line

that makes connections.

Verbs hang in midair proposing movement;

chores, change, promises, and poetry

for nouns to untangle. 

Electricity junkies, 

trying twisted ways to say 

what was entangled worked. 

Painting by Hans Dahl, 'Girl in a field knitting' c. 1879 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

X traction

The pen becomes a scalpel,
gleaming with precise intent
on sterility and removal, via
extraction from entanglement,
in order to sever-ate the corrosion
before it seeps through to stain
repellent gesso with black tears.

And although the layers piled up
their rolling waves of light,
it was the implementation of movement
through space that fills in the blanks,
we went further
discontent with no white way
to think this through
with outlines.



Image credit via Wikimedia Commons, in Public domain (Gift of Felix M. Warburg, 1928), dated 1605.