I. Time Winds Up
Yet vision. Further ash.
Bet easy. Go hit ice, Job.
Sing, go law boy, thin.
outside a mirror schemes
to duplicate itself
but let them not talk falsely
the hour, forgetting to be late
and being late would have arrived
outside notice of itself, no dice
and know those two well-
-dés and deux
the notion of double reflection
fierce out of hiding and forced back
into itself but twice as fast leaving
a vapor trail in its absence
a wind sock for a guessing gust
from a hungry ghost arriving
as if it could read my mind reading
itself the pleasure of not following
as a satin stitch would flip the underside
of the spirit as leaves delay
giving notice to chromatic departures
leave off dreaming blanks or apples
exactly the strata of arrivals
the snare-drumming coffins -- this buys life
sent aspens like shed aspens
ashes flicked on pale snow leave that husk
behind, a snapped antler, this body
clothed in words, inwardly mute
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