[ selection, f. to select. The spelling æglogue (med.L. ægloga, Fr. églogue) was associated with a fanciful derivation from , goat (as if ‘discourse of goatherds’).]
in which the river runs and the river
runs out where what comes out of the mouth
makes the shape of a mouth
should the tongue need to swim.
Otherwise there will be water
under the bridge we have to cross
once we come to it.
of the mines then steady them mines
against us. What went in the pockets
of Mother’s apron with Father down there
was dense. Seen as flame. What depleted
attenuated until a field was paved. This
the back yard, the pit, the activated area.
Either the wrong god or action
leveled on the wrong plane
shores up the beast and grinds the beast
down to a nub.
a Monday night grafts want to task
on Broadway and 49th where I mistake
a square of sky for the one blank screen
awaiting a program of images to conceal it,
revealing either rain, windows
or some ruling relationship.
more homework and then I’ll set the table
and My God look at us Louise.
Either Louise or God should look at us
unless I am one of us regardless;
we look toward the choice scout
who anticipates the new mythology
but cannot tell you why.
a. Proof
b. Once bitten twice shy
c. All the rest
of your possessions are in the mausoleum
collected of your possessions. Either
the navy or the navel from the Greek
means to sing God out of the soul.
The terrible feeling began in the real
matter of heart. A doorway, a field,
a goat. And I stood wrong. It wasn’t all the rest
but all that rest collected. Proof that you by no
means existed at all.
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October 29th, 2008 at 11:20 am
[…] Eclogue read poems by jane gregory, fellow iww student, here. […]