PREVIOUS NEXT FIRST it is a driftwood flame...
Delacroix's Liberty Leading The People
it is a driftwood flame
that fondling triflingly
the forest at its darkest edge

it is a flickering which, game
startles th'melody playing
softly, cleanly through its dredge

of checkered shadows (fleeting
and) it is stolen themes
of birds from th'most mossy

darkness (it is) a spreading
dream over twirled blending streams
of surface olive-glossy

it is intermittent shades
& sometimes' afterglows
upon moist leaves

whose satinness fades
(that an eye looks, knows
perceiving Symmetry!)

... it is croaking frogs & twigs
clangoring (in the absence
it is) on fell trunks

where its cobwebs it rigs
it says for its defense
from predator & quidnunc

it is... a whisper whispering
on & off alluding life
it is from th'dense

abundance after Spring
& from the most basic strife that springs
this almost ultimate presence

which consumes th'very rife ignorance
that brought it from the callow void
--th'branches of th'cosmic boscage

bend as almost a countenance
empty of motive and devoid
of sense becomes an age

"freedom is not merely
to be able to progress
at will--it's to be able
to egress as well" It says and then
it shouted from th'shadowness
when it believed itself stable

"love! purpose! equality & peace
reason/liberty/brotherhood" all
shouting ends and

lips become numb... disease
makes its spasmodical
appearance. Th'Voice ran

roots grew over the passing face
Weeds wormed their way over
then eyes, leaves covered th'whole

aspect & odor of the place
as fast as if it were
being guided by a supernatural

cause) it is a broken image
now, of dumb boundless tree shade dancing
over th'desert's wide stilled ground

it might have been--unspeakable personage!
upon his pilgrimage most Grave (who made
this footprint nowhere bound?...)