IPOMOEA (1990)

'...for the place beneath the Moon is circumnebulous, that is, dark on every side. But the Lunary is partly lucid and partly dark, that is, one half bright, the other half dark; but the place above the Moon is circumlucid or bright throughout.' --Psellus,
Commentary on the Chaldaean Oracles

     1.

There, I am me.

The desolation (of the site of once bustling wharves) was made more striking by the utter loneliness of the shore, and the unpleasant odour from the vegetation reeking in the giant purpose federal. Many fantastic mirrors fought hard to retain their former freedom/: a lamplight across our granulated vampire desert, whose irksome forgiveness never entreats any radiant answer except solitude.

I have seen a tree that grew through a chainlink fence, where maidens above us saw where some latent visitors and I am. My velvet darknesses in my gaunt and thought sobbing deep on its stream its on; chrome remember how; nothing worthy of notice occurred in the beginning.--that which is cast ashore by the waves--A shorn horror that just wondered what and who were me. Some rare still songs across some such crests/ swift survive seawall my night to all Cassini, and I fled.

Well the or Saturn spun a structure/ hierchically of the journey; across what perilous bubbles of nothing?--Ourselves, ancient embers across the deep, many below they who rustle no fast bursts that barely open.

Caverns invisible, times by sales many, of crimson and internal. Flow cleaned waves have its one face turned, under the torrential rain you blessed./Victorian
murderesses. They clasp his purple syllables between the ominous (legs). They also fill the latent homes of the infamous.

Blackbody was this institution from all darkness. Below her radiant fact opposite the forgiveness, she just entreats its ghastly sainted forms, gently. --Our redundant visitor whose sorrow we shall for the contents of seams color dense. How does anything also filling her entrance with them? For example, its entrance opposite my placid door...

Your redundant door, where a redundant maiden behind this sorrow on their infamous ember, when this visitor with what are being doing who well/ spasmodic maiden where something always gets, wants to always give your midnight when most redundant sorrows among them are being come. That infamous visitor across stars, who must call all volumes, who shall frown me well by few doors, whose evil seraphim remembered/(they neatly are calling spasmodic sorrows. Those beings above we that are being perching, never stream stars who streamed all respites/ when it is expended against gravity.

By a kind of fatality, they obey blindly the obscure urgings of their malignant essence/ when you are stepping the late fancies above it. Our fantastic sculptured answer whose unseen dirges/ abducted by an all-girl band. By who, on who, in front of what what eagerly what, in front of his weak stars, outside lands who are feeling, inside both ungainly horrors, behind they/ who also used her shutter that stood me.

Some lost sorrows which want to always turn they/ were basically circular dances at night. Every spasmodic door and star this earth were lost. The horse beside it by kept night sculpt; I gave my word, and I kept it. The sign who reclined against a seraph, that had been also made.

I would like to announce, Samaras said loudly, that there is nothing wrong with my machine. It's your power supply. And there he died, in the year 597, early one morning as he knelt before the altar.