Monday, August 24, 2015

ILLOCALITY, JOSEPH MASSEY ~






 Wave Books, 2015




TURNED



A notch

at the top of the mountain —



the eye

without a thought



threads the sky through.



How hours take



the stain of hours

and hold beneath their bloom



these things arranged

to resemble a season.



Summer's hum and lag.



To walk into it —



breathe the frequencies

that knot the air, another



animal baffled

to be an animal.








ON MIGRATION



A split glyph

drags south

over a parking lot.



The suction

of dusk.

We watch it



wrest

margin

from margin.



Your face

in the half-light.



The aphasia

of the shape

of your face

in the half-light.



Autumn

embalms

the hour.







from  TAKE PLACE



As if a field guide

could prevent

the present



from disintegrating

around us.



 ~



A noun

staggers through

the gloam, the



indescribable

color



opening, closing.







from  ILLOCALITY



To imagine a morning



the first

sounds from the street



and the house, its halls



scarifying

consciousness



Antique glass

smudges limbs



(more blue

than green)



flared out 

over a roof



To imagine

the raw circumference



of a field

as it wakes



what we make of it



where our senses

send us


———————————————— 


JOSEPH MASSEY
Illocality
Wave Books, 2015

http://www.wavepoetry.com/products/illocality