"It seemed to me all over again that in every phase of living we do not have to conform to the way our life has been written for us" --Carrington, The Hearing Trumpet via @mjohnharrison
6
deep vigil
in veil lungwort
the cold trail
of a trial form
which way out
the high window
7
in the tell
buried ticking
jester's twitch
germ of a pearl
night's vast merge
with skull mumble
8
the garage
whose light i raised
with white disk
remember whelm
of bitter
voltbare winter
9
the temple
tilted to dry
rattle-scrape
java's ready
so much still
with no strict sign
10
barely name
cloudfare numen
warm biscuit
& weary tove
indicate
to ents this hare
11
vision quest
requiring next
the bold move
of mind-token
to a square
squintingly grasped
12
the rabble
in the rubble
cloud wizards
clearly lacking
deep cherry
the car hue change
13
gargoyle rain
to rule a grief
i wander
at will through streets
ramified
with not resting
14
church restored
from the charred hulk
what gets kept
when that blue goes
cling to those
from my clang'd years
15
& fester
in fierce moonlight
raise a hymn
from huddled woe
ev'rywhere
is eke skipwreck
16
call it realm
of the rude dawn
wheels come off
of our old car
stuck out here
smack in harm's way
17
no time left
for lingerthwart
for cruel jokes
that walk like crowns
for parsing
the pure answer
18
the Dog Days
their dark rattle
riddle me
through rat's alley
recognize
the new skyline
19
red Vespa
veering through turns
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