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Springhouse, Mense, Held Apple, House and Beyond
- Wesleyan University Press
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Stalk-standing, space-burning, to call All over, to hear These wires-thumb-echo ofthe harp Pronged with herding whispers, cross-handed Fingered-and all Ofus would be then Veer-crying and straining like wire Redoubling its prongs, and could contrive to praise Sufficiently, and counterpraise Barbed wire and these crows: Their spirit-shifting splits Oftongue, their cry ofunfathomable hordes. Springhouse) Menses) HeldApple) House andBeyond Nothing but one life: all stands: I go out with my main ear in each stone End-stopping a creek: territorially Listen, and beyond the live seepage ofrock Is a window cleanly blinded with an orchard. Everything the world has made This day, through sheen and rock Can pierce through stone and glass And air, I hear. My hand inertially rounding, I love far in and far from me: The stalled tightening ofdistant fruit, the wasp's delaying Uncontested spasm at the pane. Sealed and sweeping depth Is part ofme now, and I ride it, gone bright inside in the dark Ofthe raised, rounded quarry and its cool; I am reined-in and thriving with the wasp: I meet now vibrantly with him And unbearably at the broad window: When he gives up the glass, I shall rise and walk out through all the walls Six from Puella / 420 Ofmy father's house holding, but not at bay, High-energy cloth where I scotched it Like iron between my legs and go Whole-hearted and undoctored toward the hillside Beamirig its distances, the fruit in my hand Encompassing, crackling with vitality Like a burning basket the day-moon stronger In me than on me outdoing what is left ofthe wasp's Smattering and hard-nosed abandon And pick up his rifling thread Where it lays out my wandering for me Center-boring through fields ofray-flowers: I help it I ride it I invent it To death and follow down shameless with energy From the closed river flowering, Upgathered and delighted in the hive's High-risk and conglomerate frenzy: One life brought to bear On what I require: A stone house, a father, a window, The wasp's holocaust oflocation, The bees' winnowed over-stressed time-zone, Far orchards blazing with slant. Deborah as Scion I WITH ROSE) AT CEMETERY Kin: quiet grasses. Above, Lace: white logic fretted cloud-cloth. In steady-state insolence I bring up a family Look: a look like sword-grass, that will leave on anything human Deborah as Scion /42I ...