
“… Unkept
By the present tense, I was distant
In my watching,
An existence I too tendered stagily
As free.
[…]
the flowing virtue
Of verdant surfaces”
What must be valued
I’m learning,
in clarity and in error,
are spaces
where
feelings are held.
Here—in a poem?
And elsewhere
(JJ)

We surrender in the teeming utterance
of materials soaked with sentences already made in air
To disappear into the right words
and to be their meanings. . .
radiant points, scales and
variations of beads and dots
breathe benevolent notes, their
particular legibility of trackless
Resistance …