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BRIAN LUCAS |
Gossamer Zone
A scatter
where once fecund
pebbles grain borrowings
silt bottom dredge
Minerals by
the armful returned
skin and blood tunes
losing essence repetition
What can be said
could be the end
or be all
whichever
makes it so far
in
the letters’ caravan
now solo trek
For Barbara Guest
Tilt
At the quick
vowel
lies
in the ascendant
between silence
and voice
Zero is housekeeper
full of
darning rays
and phonetic bliss
“word-milked”
Voices breaking inside
non-compatible with
environments like these
Law and logic
with laughter
to break
the spell
At the quick
bring white darkness
Glimpse
It contains but
cannot stay full
It has roots and leaves
yet is still barren
Sound or no sound
neither either nor or
If not now
then when
or will that won’t
be said
or better left undead
in the throat
Follow
Follow dolmen
to dolmen
wear the “where”
on eye’s
diamond lid
Follow these
lines
from shore to
slag heap
sluice so bitter
and full
Follow stern
warnings
garbled forward
by egret gibber
Follow one
morning fair
gondola gong
and sunk mothership
Follow
the song
“Gossamer Flame”
Fallow
not follow
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