Argosy

Wikipedia Poem, No. 912

Traantown
realizes
home to’gain three watchers
watch
it’s luck, old luck
fell
on them might they
see
those next few days, months, years dry down harbor way.

He
heard
the water-thrill then, so
sent
above—
to talk?
to explore
the exterior?

Terrible clarity, terrible, they
weren’t
like others round Traantown
rigging
sudden pagan kinship with patient harbor
runs
cross through the men of your world, one whitecap at a time.

Elizabeth

bishop

“If you should dip your hand in,
your wrist would ache immediately,”

from “At the Fishhouses”, by Elizabeth Bishop

improv for bernie, 111820121309 [draft1]

The thing is wide & white
But bearing a ring of amber
Which carries across memory
_like a whisper-washed hair or
Blade, but I think back on her question
And yes, I am killing myself adoringly
Melting my body to the mat

For this knuckle of pint. When I think

Of her the follies rise,
Precepts enjamb in pain, a sweet round
Aftertaste stalking the long dark nap.
Don’t change a word. You
Are wise & wind torn & yr ears are tuned
_to just
Frequencies — the grass whimpers above each follicle
Lip quivering by truth-run conceit. We have
Suffered, but in my ocean, beside your ocean, …

I think: “Bare it,” I say.