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These are excerpts from my self-published zine, Touching Peripheries, available in my print shop.

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The following poems are from my time at Le Pountet community in Ariege, France, in January 2023. 

Snow Above Foix

​

With slow ascent,

Snow thickens, crunches,

Erasing knowings and contexts.

Time, in conjunction, thins,

Insubstantiates——

 

Drifts vague and gossamer

Down the mountainside.

We hurl our stagnations

To the alpine sky, 

Caress the wind's frozen fingers,

 

Its rippling striations. Then

A sound, from ages past——

Downy knells solemn and coltish;

Clangings unfamiliar

yet belly-known; an

 

Inscrutable warmth, muted

Clarion sending strange

Beckonings across the white hill.

And there they stand——

Huge-bellied and bronze;

 

Malibu hair, darkling eyes.

Their clemency is exquisite,

Complete; a wild mercy

That pours from their great heads,

Their soft flanks and shining hooves.

 

They wander the hillside

Freely, content in their

Benignity. We lose ourselves

In that timeless place, easeful

And silent; and then climb

 

Further, adrift in serenity.

No moon

 

You reach

Where you thought you were going

Sky turns, unconcerned

Blank stare from nowhere

 

Moon left us here——blind——

Our murmured irrelevancies

Gulped by her hidden mouth

Or falling like a fistful of flour

Onto the soil's shifting stygia

 

None of our meanings belong here——

Mascerated, degraded, blackened 

Into layers of peat

Pushing like prehistory through the sand

For Soph

​

Dark fingers——

Spindly,

Softly scraping sky.

 

Flowers made of

Frost blooming

Orgeously,

 

Insidious and

Delightful

In the silver room.

 

I bring you 

To mind——

Dark ocean

 

Opaque and

Turbulent.

You arrive there

 

Willingly. Smiling,

Even, to be

Amongst such

 

Black waves——

Welcoming

Troubles of all seas.

 

I am in awe.

Silver Limbs

​

Swing back and forth,

Pendulum drifting

Nebulously

 

Through the grey

Lichen-bearded trees,

Held together only

 

With repeated words.

Valley becomes you

Sonorous, silent.

 

Sun's low arc, silver,

Glints off your slender

Pale branches, limbs---

 

A crucible of

Substances both

Tangible and

 

Intangible, shift

From one to the other---

Moss and meaning.

 

Sapling sweet and small---

All of this is

Consequential.

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