Ekstasis

that the self might be stepped out of into—

I have never found it true: the dream
of a little death, the stay
of thought; the unbearable made bearable

through some brief ministry of joy—  Learning

from men at lines of urinals the strategies
of reticence: only
the slightest tensing in the flesh as sign, ecstasy not

translation, but the bearing-up of body as against
a force it will be sieged by but
not broken     Christ

          I  would  be  broken—

Finding his genitals offended him Origen           tore them out
and of his body made
no body

                     Whoever will drink from my mouth
will become like me      I beseech thee     Be

           transformed—

Chorality

Such huge flowers one must pray for, stitching the instance of bloom
to a daily cloud. If it came, ultimately, to salvation, then why
three seeds in the mail? Or three days and a tower of books,
or three catalpas and an abundance of pods?

So many songs called human. And they were singing and we were singing,
Day's true voice of many next to, like talks-with-his-eyes-closed,
or leaping-salmon-jam-session. To call it one mouth is to rate
carbon forms a true engine. At the reception it was Doris and her
sweet sexiness, hope in white lace and old hymns. They called it
marriage and asked us all to join hands. One comic mouth,
like a happy Bergson, enjoying eternal return. "Try it today
and be thankful tomorrow," a post post dureé showering gold,
and a friend who gave it to me, and rue for my lack of response.

Sunflowers, and the limited corruption of turning to face the light.
Each with their heads out bending best they can, our reading the passage
into a personal ocean. Desiring the petal, achieving it, no doubt to be
Jacob or Job, the vexed synth of to be exactly the labor of prayer.
The friend who gave them to me worked the ground, and I tripped
on watering, and made amends by cultivation. A living ratio
in the tides. Gloriat Dei. To stretch and pull.

Nights, I Called Out to You, and Your Name to My Mouth Was Sweet

Mornings, you answered,
And made the sweetness of all that had been sweet to me ash.