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EDITORIAL

ARCHIVE

LAGNIAPPE

MAST

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Oriel

Put your best forward first -
the way this whirligig "is"
on the edge of an oriel.

There's a point, see?
The way we kissed trees
knew which wind stir'd.

Light is God's first mistake.
The way was lighted for us
these many humans atumble.

But on the edge of an oriel
we made our kisses airy the way
trees tumble in mistaken fog.



Absentia (xii)

Before we blame
the pilon
for our troubles,

let's forget that he in Nia-Nia
stompt on cherry
rendering wine

and she near the Nile
betwixt hanging vine
and asp

has choked
on the vomit
of when-clouds-pass;

brought here, a party to stupor,
this accident we're in,
this shevelled nexus of light

on the windshield
and a lack of blame...
right?