Seasonal Works with Letters on Fire

West Marin Night During Perseid Showers

W E S T M A R I N N I G H T D U R I N G P E R S E I D S H O W E R S The sugars drop down in the berries, no longer specific. That mangy deer sleeps the summer off. You’ve been here the night away, a body with its bit of local pain. Under the hazel: spots on satyr anglewings [Polygonia satyrus] spaced unevenly. Spikenard bundles poof up from huge stalks. [“Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, & anointed the feet of Jesus . . .”] Friday self-dislike is replaced by earlier mild energy— Fiery rocks hurl themselves through “heavenly dust”—(Why are ‘e’ & ‘r’ reversed in fiery while f stays on first—) You’ve been up the night away, a silhouette of clauses: claws in the dust making you sneeze. Vast a thought, vast a sky waiting for morning fog. Pour down, light strands of the difficult; the moon will not rise with its golden axe of being— If the fog is too thick, the meteors are on line: http://topaz.streamguys.tv/~spaceweather/index.html The first void is God waiting; that continues, of course. Then a couple of pings. It sounds like the back of the universe is getting acupuncture:: @@** a spinning is entered by needles of gloved rain— F O R J S 3 2 ...