We have moments of vanity
I’ll repeat in perpetuity
with serious refractions
I arrange suitably.
On beaches and crow’s wings
we sing:
out of time
out of range
out of my head.

This song i sing
blows by as memory,
alone on an hourglass
watching leafed pages
expose themselves
to a towline hurricane
in successive order
speeding past epilogue and index.
Telemeter the stars and
dark horizons with bronze arcs
whose shadows fill
shelves upon rosters,
but velvet demands
these courses of
maudlin ecstasy.

A tumbling to earth
wakes the shattered constant breathing
of concomitant repossessors
here for gravy and gold.
They arrange for divestment.