Somehow the separation
enacts as a beginning
neither middle nor end
if we recognize anything
along the way it is happenstance
and nothing more
light breaking thru the ceiling
that nevertheless collapses
leaving you in a state
as much undifferentiated
as something unrecognizable
which is what you were when
you did not have a face waiting
in the wings of the mirror stage
for your line a miscue
that somehow finds a pocket
for god does not play dice
only just to abolish chance
in the midst of something else
was it I who was saying
this feels like something else
do I dare to presume
to start something else by myself
which is a universe after all
Category: Uncategorized
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Something Else The Same
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On the Longest Tennis Match that Still Has Not Ended
Without question
a course for endurance occurs
on the blinding blades of grass
in between back and forth
of unending yield
for immortality means never change
a currency of perpetual birth
can only give rise to answer
with one more slide
into precipitant obsolescence
if one was not there to see
the sun set it will return
waiting for the clock to break again
we will keep the score on our skin
and run out of flesh real fast
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Elusive Predicate
When memory becomes
so uncontainable
it turns into present tense
or you wake up thinking of
the dreams you will have
tomorrow night
or you realize the sound
you hear in the distance
is unidentifiable
or the rain drips through
the ceiling unattached
to any normal fixture
or the sky gets born
along with the sea
and everything in it
or you cannot believe
you ever were led
to unbelief like that
or you keep looking
for the word that saves you
when the word is listening
for the breath that saves you
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Reverse
I take a picture in reverse
in place of the real reality
it turns to infinite regress
back thirteen billion years
to a point of light before
it was called light of course
before there were words
used by humans or gods
proving for once and all
in the beginning was a non
sequitur it didn’t really go
down in such an unfashioned
it was much more humble
and quiet you would hardly
notice in fact it made no sound
unlike the anachronism
enacted by our breaths
in mobile pendulum stream
believe me if you were there
you wouldn’t believe your eyes
not that there were eyes
then or beginnings or ends
just a solid sign sighing
and yes I said yes I will Yes
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Coal Dust Bowl
In places where the landscape
bears traces of upheaval rather
than renewal the house siding
is laced with coal dust
the overgrowth retains texture
of perpetual winter although
the sun continues its disintegration
on this long late spring day
the forecast didn’t predict this
warmth but it increases
as the hours wear on
looking for something to
photosynthesize at some point
if you keep digging you get to
the center of the earth
and come out the other side
where the sun isn’t shining
at least not at this moment
but there are no privileged
frames of reference there’s just
the sense that this way of life
is unsustainable that soon
there will be no earth left
to dig up the seeds will scatter
on fallow ground which is
another way of saying
that nothing will grow
here ever again anymore
until the light finds home
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Last Night’s Dreams
All day the fabric of my thought
has been suffused with last night’s dreams
just enough to remember emotion or image
not enough to recall narrative or sequence
so I propose in my near waking state
that this is what the previous life
or the next life should wind up being
a shift between consciousness with
no information passing between the cusps
except for the premonition of existence
just as a glance puts you in the perspective
of one approximating an open window
the leaf upturned awaiting the storm
the humidity thick with anticipation
on another world there are oceans underground
plumes of spray exalting through the crust
I take it in as I take in this memory
of what I was going to say were I not
interrupted by what I want to remember
as last night’s dreams of waking life
but the moment has passed and becomes
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The Myth of Objectivity
The thing that causes you to see
would deliver you blind
if it had its own way with you.The idea of not being able to see
god probably came from the sun
but it’s much simpler than that.You need to go below the surface
if failing to strike the source
keep digging until you get there.I can’t tell you how to get there
you have to find it yourself
through rigid self-controlled discipline.Everything you learn becomes chalk dust
coats everything in a veneer called things
only dish detergent will get it out.Even then it’s a close run thing
the odds aren’t likely to improve
the face washing onto the shore is your own.
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Dist.
In all likelihood
the several dis-
concrete elementswill be pulled together
in sound of discord
shuffled off bypressure distinct
incontrovertible
the mandible aghastin midst of distemper
tempting the flood
of consonantsdeliberate obfuscation
permitting the dis-
tourist directiontoward the unmediated
path through labyrinth
distended unalloyedwith gates swinging
wildly in the wind
district of riven seedsplanted in breeze
dismembered until
remembered thenunspoken disabled.
Joshua Keiter 