Monday, July 28, 2008

paper trail (getting another degree in the arts & (humanities))


a leading inclination where meadows split diverge and bulge outside compass crosses

the threaded links bare-- simply put
they are not there
the fit is not tight security is not tight our coupling is not tight

cradled in the shaft of a large machine
i cannot see my face
(fate) is a mystery beyond

intellect is without a weapon in this world where prayer becomes--
(a new stirring of self(hope) though god has no grip on her cliffs

trusting to difficult directions she dances across the stage towards a pole planted firm--
it is hers to hold slide glide around
loose structure and the study of women
the study of american history which is part of world history and now earth history

behind her sky paper patterns collide--
remnant of the undefined
the finite torture of signature

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