Abstract
Silence green and filling with wind. Into the core where the eye was born in darkness Blessed in a fugue of pulsations Ivory beginnings returned The mountain laurel reached its peak in the acidic shale We cannot help noticing what makes us disappear We cannot help believing in the silence that made us Out of the great death that emptied us Squirming in a bucket of song and laughter. Where did such a sound find a beginning Where did such a beginning find a sound To claim and name itself. A pulsation that cannot help itself Even as we are carried in our machines To the ends of our tissue, the ends of o r matter. Soon we will not fear the end of things Soon the locust will reverse itself in our sleep.
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