now automatic writing
that engine & saviour of expression
well -
stationary boatmen
make circles of ellipses
in the spring of surface tension
with coffee scoop feet
& if i must
fall deep
to hear myself
i will belay the kernmantle ropes
& light it up
& read the shadows
of the gumbo & diamonds down there
& fetch them up
to the suns
light
warmth
& bleachy fade
& bust like birth
the kitchen counter silence
in this bad-quiet & still
headpan pool