|
A DEAD DOG KEEPS WASHING UP + ROSE
MINOTAUR + ENJOY YOUR EFFIGY
by William Keckler
A DEAD DOG
KEEPS WASHING UP
A dead dog floats in the foam scummy water below a waterfall
Keeps trying to wash up on the shore but the shore is human steps
A dead dog can't wash up steps
The water level drops and a stair is exposed
The dog rests on the white step for a number of minutes or hours
Maybe miles it all depends how you travel
The water level rises and the dog floats out again
Dog leaves the human step and floats out to the waterfall
It's a white dog, which seems strange (what reason? none)
Someone watches the dead dog float from a hotel window
She goes to the window to see the dog, its cycles of time
The person in the window specializes in flotation (her mannering)
The white dog it starts to bloat with time (even from this distance)
She looks up higher and sees the moon between open sliding glass
The moon is long dead and also salutes us (quotation) light's funny
dead dog
I mean the way that the dead dog, the moon or Sanskrit bothers still
I don't know why I love you even that monsoon you inhabit sands down
He grabs his lover by the back of her shirt as she stands looking
Pulls her towards an ancient bed she thinks (vanished stars aglow)
should have rails
She doesn't know why but he feels ambient (to her) maybe a
disturbed airport
She falls upon (upon, a human word) his naked back and finds its swale
You have destabilized me she says (and peripheral) to moon through
curtains
The dog is floating towards shore again like so many curtains the
people confuse
He lies on his stomach and plays dead while she lies in the swale of
his back
I don't mean to be a prick she says and they both (laugh inside) only
But I don't want you to stop seeing him (and somewhat a dig) we are
abroad
Abroad she thinks why not only a white moon the white dog and gravity's
lease
She wonders what a lull of gravity (light, posthumous) would the moon
ever stop
A hotel gathers strange sorts of time the towels migrate funny seagulls
on the roof
The moon is a migrant worker she says and he says (please, the pull)
ROSE MINOTAUR
This is neither a rose nor a minotaur (I can't excuse) whatever pleads
Please is a word we have invented for a reason that does not yet exist
Remove your clothes and then your skin and then step in our clepsydra
Here is an apology as long as your galaxy (a milky stream) (our
garage)
Of course I love the way an ant (unfathoms) (walking over it)
corpse of quartz
Essence stuff retreats his poem's trilobite
The Virgilian atque morphs into lyre of ampersand (ocean Pound sand
sound)
I love the way you use the mold how you pour a concrete hand
Let's sit around all day making hands like that and then throwing them
ENJOY YOUR
EFFIGY
The
woods are deep and something (quite possibly) must be telling the tale
Reassurance is unfashionable (unfathomable) I don't know why you
try
Sentences that falter like beautiful people faltering will always be
the culmination
I passed a snowman yesterday (funny) he confided in me he loves ice-wool
I said who doesn't (sad) and then he asked me for a jar of cold
concealer
I smiled and pretended to read my phone and he said "Enjoy your effigy"
Being a polyvore is probably telling too much about yourself
How you sway to cities with the most polyhedral architecture
(overjoyed)
Crumple a Kleenex and it's Frank Gehry omigosh the Whatever School
The way a bluejay is held captive by each disciplined afterimage
Do you consider blue feathers a form of self-knowledge (flighty risk
critique)
Sky whittles down trees until they concede to hachures and pixels
How do we truly know when a thing is over dipped into the sculpture
I mean lowing in the way the hoarders of beauty do carefully out back
The snowman was too cheerful (his nativity) I should have been colder
|
