1.
5 1/2 x 8. a sense of loss is pleated, crumpled,
then pressed onto the page,
texturing the bond with shadowy lotteries.
Is it shredding or building; neutral, engaged,
morph and/or decay?

Yes.
The condition of being
under the changeable sun in the,
although smallish to us, vast
and lustrous spaces
of accidental time, lithic
melancholy,
and milky wrinkles
is—what it is.

2.
First,
It and
is red. Red wet crickets slow
down when
the mix of hot and cold is too
much for them.
And green.
Cicada carcasses on the sidewalk,
crisp ashen wings.
Nothing to say. Just
gleaming.

Gleaming!

3.
Here: a pile of cut grass and twigs, naked, dry, a pile that, when picked up, amazingly sticks together. This random pile of stuff, it holds together! Weedy vectors and cross-hatched shims, the spaces between, the material unevenness, the math and aftermath, the balance and torque, the splay and force. Only a little falls off!

4.
In the void
the alphabet clumps, shivers,
and gathers in,
rolling itself
in front of itself.

5.
DUNKEL as model.[Nothing to build.
DUNKEL as model.DUNKEL as model.
DUNKEL as model.This gap not “filled.”
DUNKEL as model.It is finally (almost) literal.]

6
occurs as mixed doubles:
scumbling and glazing,
tarring and tattering
overleaf and blockage.

But the relation of one to the other, and their interplay
color to undercoat, transparent to opaque, mist to glimpse?
Twinned alternatives
loop and lurch
between precarious contradictions
and precipitate affirmations.

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