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Out of being torn apart
comes art.
Out of being split in two
comes me and you. HA HA!
Out of being torn in three
comes a logical poetry. (She laughed but not at poetry.)
Out of the essential…
Amid breathtaking bougainvilleas
I while away my time
One floor up Emilia’s
Flimsy lingerie is hanging on a line
Tiny hummingbirds hover
Around a wistful rose
A mouse caught in a saucer
Watch where…
I am not I
when called to account—
plaster over, dumbly benched
the corrosive ardency
of blinkered identification.
To affirm nothing, a veil
of asymptotic bent,
prattling over-
tunes in the striated…