SÉANCE
Is that part
of the stem—the one that bends—
around the pole—
stood there now decades ago—the stem
that mended obstruction
by humbly arounding—by shooting through it—
is it then—
that stem—evidence—of memory—or antennae—
alien force for
sure tasked to twist about the ruin
of what’s been
reckless—this city’s past’s past’s making—growth
a mark of
unreasonable season growth showing where a wild
coyote walked kingly
down the street at dawn but no—
wait—wild is
wrong—you didn’t see it There can’t
be any longer
wild Wild is the thing that lives
inside watching from
the window what is wilder still than
him—with vigilance
You touch him You’re thinking most creatures
can’t believe can’t
recall beginning—their ends we witness—but
that stem started
long before you thought to meet it
and around it
bends—born in cement… Have you put
a face to
your enemy Have you sat in séance
Have you asked
your dead what way yet Have you
finished accounting Will
you gift your belongings Would you ever
even do that
What would you do HD said that
“we look through
a window into the world of pure
over-mind” and—like
a cap—it shadows us—it keeps
us—so she
said—connected—to a deep internal discerning
consciousness a sea-wall
underwater lens it rests over perception as
a jellyfish—veil
or vision molten blurring of the external
world in service
to something undeclared dense prediction too too
far withdrawn to
convey that the conventional means of making
is taking Are
you inside or outside Are you persistent
or troubling Outside
today not far away more mistaken violence—
the site says
stay safe go hide don’t fight but
dread cocoons—dread
weaponizes context Have you asked yet your
map—the alphabet—
for further instruction—an introduction to what
might drive you
further in a resistant direction—insurrection—some
pilot—a permanent
presence Are you inside or outside Are
you yourself well
What is the memory of a stem—
its bend Where
will you go when you leave What
has the city’s
past’s past abandoned The gazebo The observatory Exhaust
You are trying to think but that sound—that
sound not strong—
not a train or a shot not
a wail not
a watch—that pitch—there is something
in the way
of the thought—you are revolving around
it—Stop growling