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I will not turn away showing my face and love the words pouring from your mouth Po-lyph-o-ny it was a music to me a freaky effluvium entering me lit with that speak with its thick embryonic music born into a strange new light darker than any like I had known before, polyphony spoke to me It was a language to eat the sky a language to say goodbye standing with others standing in the dust the old language continues its dialogues in ordinary dust Now the sun was a bower of rusty cables 168
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its deep center flashing, welding this room to silence an ascension hard and hauling heaves above the time and its tether When I think all you have done I think on all of this and you know the way I trod the path dissembled with leaves under the ghosting shades an elm made and discovered the pages of my book open to greet me In the poem I am thick with dream my limbs heavy forcing myself to wake into striated dusks rising through the stratum a question in my brain 169

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I will not turn away showing my face and love the words pouring from your mouth Po-lyph-o-ny it was a music to me a freaky effluvium entering me lit with that speak with its thick embryonic music born into a strange new light darker than any like I had known before, polyphony spoke to me It was a language to eat the sky a language to say goodbye standing with others standing in the dust the old language continues its dialogues in ordinary dust Now the sun was a bower of rusty cables

168

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