My Way_ Speeches and Poems - Charles Bernstein

fHplicit ~ersion ~umber ~equired
Years later and even the memory of evanescence
had passed. The sink, loaded with a lifetime
of dishes, was bigger than a stack of Uncle
Matt's molasses jacki and the inflections on the
thoroughfare were crowded with deputation.
Going down in a nosedive through the slatted
torquing of gilt intentions, liturgic ambassador
to intervalic invention, eyeing schlock absorbers
in the pouring light. Think digitally,
act analogically! The silhouette of the child
standing on the jetty in the bright sun
blows a hole through the rivulets
in the curtain of the casing of my
1966 Ford Escort convertible, elbowing out
interminable incentives to row the bloke
to Angelic paradigms bursting with waxy
savvy from the long haiti thus by ordinate demand
demonstrating the abiding circus of incapacity's
love of reeling rapture in the maimed
vision of circumnavigation's song. Spending
the day and only asking what it costs later.
Version of make-believe turning out to be shadow
boxing. "He saw the gap and took it." BETTER
A SORROWER THAN A FENDER BEAM. Before the dream
was the sleep, punctuated by endoscopic rigmarole.
Focus ON THE LOSS: I once was timed but now I'm
fixed rate. As if action were a substitute for glass.
All that is irritating melts into hemorrhoids: moral
fiber just another word for ... consideration. Blush
and the world blushes with you, or not. Poetry fakes
nothing actually. Poetry fakes nothing happening.
& the dead deride the dead while the living forget to pay
attention. It is a large, crowded hall, perhaps an
amphitheater. We are in the audience.