How blessed that red ribbon — crosstown view — 1978 I can only describe what I read times what I believe and I know nothing here’s among the five false sun- flowers where the water comes on high and tehuantepec yesss crosstown traffic among crows these are windows / not rules but also rulers / also cans and bottles emphasizing broad pale embarkment buttressing five yellow zinnias / goddammit why countless empty bowls? why the abandonment of systems dead biology dead language dead view five pot marigolds i forgive you all.
It is smaller than a picture It is a black bird. The star In orange, characterized By beaks and legs — Kyurukuru — and warmth To spare. Walks with a saw In a bright place such as a lawn Or field while he grasps The efforts of mirrors and insects In the evening from winter To late summer he bears A big group and gathers the spring — Gyeen — one year of birds The hole of a tree, like the sea We make nests and breed a lot.
“This book I bought in Venice for one Ducat in the year 1507.” Albrecht Dürer
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