047.4: Dan Beachy-Quick:: On Consideration 047

On Consideration


1.

a little death in my face
a sleep I could not sleep
mind’s own mine own
memory or mere glut of

*

ore in the golden rift
he was one who drowned
Keats inside his breast
name writ on water pocket

*

what is real is what is
partial but praise restores
what I cannot wholly see
my face when I look through it

*

daisies now grow over him
daisies before pressed down
ceiling’s pressed tin flowers
a spot of blood arterial on a

*

pillow-case I know that color
red means I will die
looking up at these flowers
pressing me down into a page


2.

a faulty elsewhere but not
a false method the stars all
pointed through themselves
light and other considerations

*

not time I hate exactly but
some syntax masking the stars
present tense inclusive of
past or what is stuttering and

*

immortal sidereal eye-holes
slit in the dark burlap sack
dark matter and material all
eye-holes missing the eyes

*

curious about beauty and dust
obliterating virtue in the
phenomena a hero draws a line
between two points taut

*

loose bowstring looser fact
apotheosis such a long word
for those who don’t come back
some stars we see are dark


3.

a little death in my face
some thinking I could not think
the spicy isles and thou not there
a cargo whose daisy wounds

*

love me or love me not
invite in all the ghosts
I am who is haunted
leave me or leave me not

*

note the quick wears away
the likeness even as of
putting myself in some clothes
I can’t learn to take off

*

likeness to the naked fact
dumb in the haunted chamber
these thoughts mimic shapes
as of both hands pushed out

*

is it greeting or is it appalled
forced to consider my own
mind or am I invited
to close the doors and say no


4.

eyes and suns and ears and moons
and the question that questions
staccato blink of the eye yes closing
and the sun there behind the eye

*

inward stars not all nonsense
to say the stars are tangled
in the roots not all nonsense
o mind you clod of dirt o you

*

chamber where I wander
helplessly through myself
reassembling the sun o no I
stepped in my own footprint

*

tamped down the nervous
grass searching for roots
the leaf springs upward o
is the shape the mouth makes

*

in bliss in agony in praise
these partial constellations
erotic drift of obscure orbits
dull embers in the o dark fiber