Plate 1: The Right View
And if I would
have portrayed for you
this soft bluish
light
the tremulous
reflection of the poplar in the water
when a convoy of
ducks is crossing the pond
and beyond the
circular shore line
the bushes and
the bay and the green mountain
melting into the
cloud-sky in the rain –
wouldn't you
search my eyes with a prying
searchlight
shoot a duck or
two down between the lines
and pray for the
monster to emerge from the sea
and gape open
upon your flesh a sky-high mouth
to redeem you
from this
divine dullness?
But there's no
need. Here, I'm sketching it for you
–
the beams and
the nails the convulsions the pain
wave after wave in his
butterfly's wings –
your glowing
faces the landscape
and finally his wonderful cry
the
pleasure-strike hitting into your
flesh
the quivering thrill –
Just one more
minute. Patience. I'm almost
finished.
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