by Derek Henderson
1. In the lobby’s end
the differing, the appearance of the great mirror
a physics of the perfect image:
my dark, from the dark
at self, in rapture
towards the room service cart at the elevator.
The technique of the weight of negation is its stoic negation, its stimulation of the beasty image skittering across the tain.
The pear I hold in my hand, the air oxidizing it, eating it towards a juiceless gone, a flat brown,
an image of itself in the mirror.
here, take this, say it back to me,
shore it up in skin, in unbruised outer shine
the question of its shape
In the glass sight is rendered impenetrable
writing on the surface
in view of the scratching rendered as good as water.
Sent away from the strike of light on tain
the slap of the hand on the surface of the mirror
reverberates in the hall.
Eye to eye—
GRAPH—Who is impoverished by philosophy?
(telephone survey, conducted 6/5/05)
cross out, sadly, the foolish, the wrongfully called, the erroneously answered.
The little girl’s dance
down the split hall
fragment into footsteps
in the dusty carpet
rapturous in leaf in frame.