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As Tears
- Northwestern University Press
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66 As Tears I’m thinking of his portrait: it’s an X-ray, a streetlamp: the leash of his spine beads skyward from his haunches’ cloud: he’s dying, but the X-ray’s holistic in itself— filmier and sweeter than my own powdered, living bone. We’ll have to call it seepage, weltering, erosion, or any word that typifies a structure treading oceanward, breath-word birding in the scape of the raze. And tissue still a music now, thus regally to burn as tears go by. ...