From Promontory of Liminal Field These embarrassments of elocution The worn and morose grooves of existence in their refrain pockets of light the bee-eater’s exclamation the sting of speech plasticity of your rapid confusions whereby brute morning accordionlike sweats collects as rivers in the chest as a pimple of amber encases Paleolithic flight from promontory of liminal field in endless sessions the wing extends its razor millions of summers ago meanwhile incalculable exits open each night the moon’s Braille curtain. Honolulu, Indiana We anthologize the weather, in small post-nomadic c r o s s i n gs Did our forebears’ gelato? Were they more prone to neither as long as anyone, beneath a maze of green leaves sails barque of February or soup of June seasons become those who most patiently row. Let us such buildings stretch out, reach in their stead to the sky for some meaning. Still Life with Arctic Monkeys This dream of gourmet Cameras, where we Bless this walking through the desert Hand in hand with every known creature. My reason Batting Kafka eyelashes Loads the ark with What sounds like rain. This paper museum. As they float inside your poem That we should give praise For these icebergs blue And rejoice in their teeth Says the Kingfisher, Astride the Empire State building. Preciously await faith’s unveiling. Holding your hand inside My kaboom and cerebral Map. That we were witness To that throbbing Vegas And wrecked caviar castles. Each little now in That springlike yard A piano key upon which I play On birth’s label What corduroy typewriter. Blistering Dinner Party Neither was in the neighborhood of necessity, these strung out along the shore.
The composer’s waves, his chauvinist forehead should be fair game, as were
Audrey Hepburn’s locks on TV. Both reclining on skates to emphasize the precarious
position that we inhabit inside each second, as if encased in another drawn curtain
to conceal the huge faux fur letters, the day’s signature. Unconcealed emotions, were
they left to their own devices at the blistering dinner party, predatory crocodiles of
both sexes. The film blurs and the accompanying music is so annoying we cannot
concentrate on our invisible novels. The Color of Perfect
These waves, a metaphor for antiquity
Remarkable in their large blue
drowning in their own knowing.
Don't walk alone through this world
In a spasmodic memory think of the ocean and
remove yourself from the news.
Smell history in the waves' stagefright.
That the afternoon’s indifference
Exhausts itself in the revelry of:
Its cumulative tone
The slow and arrogant cadence of the waves
Immune to the zodiac
The ocean exposes itself.
The ocean is its own gynecologist.
Its lyrical voice hovers somewhere just south of
Genre, oblivious yet embodying
A definition of hunger as
The ocean extends its bloody tongue to pronounce
Murder and also birth, both are
Equal to its Rococo foam.
The ocean is a swarm of always
The square root of its own illumination.
Its essence is well spent
The ocean is eating itself
Its dinner is generative.
Remarkable in their large blue
The waves have quit their employers.
After their departure
After the long lives of the public servants
Who dole out wooden words
The oceans will continue their conversation with the sun.
The ocean lives in seclusion, like
Han Shan, observing some unspoken agreement.
The ocean is our insurance, our doubt
Could we simply translate its complaint
Comprehend its angry eyes.
Learn As It etches the ice. what was and is. Like the passing moment, half cuts I search for warmth, change the heart’s channels moving. Each embered conversation Échoppe of noon’s singularity. Leav es in its throat. Larry Sawyer's debut collection Unable to Fully California is forthcoming from
Otoliths Press. His chapbooks include Poems for Peace (Structum Press), A
Chaise Lounge in Hell (aboveground press), Tyrannosaurus Ant (mother's milk
press), which was recently included in the Yale Collection of American Literature,
and Disharmonium (Silver Wonder Press). His work was recently included in The
City Visible: Chicago Poetry for the New Century (anthology, Cracked Slab Books,
2007) and A Writers’ Congress: Chicago Poets on Barack Obama’s Inauguration
(anthology, DePaul Humanities Center Press, 2009). His poetry and literary reviews
have appeared in publications including Versal, Chicago Tribune, Babel Fruit, Vanitas,
Jacket, MiPoesias, The Prague Literary Review, Coconut, 88, Hunger, Argotist,
Pinstripe Fedora, Skanky Possum, Exquisite Corpse, Court Green, the Miami Sun Post,
Ygdrasil, Shampoo, Rain Taxi, Van Gogh's Ear, and elsewhere. He edits MILK Magazine
and curates the Myopic Books Poetry Series in Chicago. © Copyright 2010 Larry Sawyer