James Capozzi
No one foresaw a movementto the interior white
river of the Spanish Anarchist
who suffered truly
whose uniform rose over
and over like
a moon
oscillates
the drained ones
this moon mutilates
the slight ones:
a great persecution in
the opposition
a tree and a wave bloom
Night
Homage Queneau
Night: a slab
The Moor: comes close, a hex, an agony
Night: a slab
Autumn: the native wife with scimitar scathes
an agile, opened heart
Night's real snake, its arc-hot star
& God between two crosses scratches
arcane letters in–my vault & view, revolt & vowel
The wide night spits a world out
This wide night kicks, it spits
The night is a cursed world:
everything's itinerant, even its colossal mount
of Night
The Centaur
Homage Queneau
The centaur began
when man did
the yellow centaur–
its ton floats undersea
of uncertain origin
A little riot, isolate
endless in its canter
between two homes
brings lurid forest
into balance
Condemned to certain derision
(my MO, my memoir)
the centaur
spirals its recycled life through sky
with a jaguar bound
and balanced in its arms
(that sphere of pain)
fearing its unruly word
Spring and All
Homage Queneau
Attendant to the spear-in-heart
cruel and plural voyeurs
console Gerard
purring before the tide
His penchant for thought
the archer murmurs
is a riot
Cops too roll up
Gerard Gerard for whom have you impeached yourself?
[the killer
rejoinder is the ocean's
neon treasure
that covert explosion radiolaire
which strikes one cop immensely
as ten thousand souls in sortie
Adieu
Homage Queneau
Adieu bridge like a horizon
with stairs and a scar and an arch
with infamous paints, red balustrade
Adieu bridge I bang feet on
Adieu tall chalet
your mauve torture, violent grays
your bent and sainted Haitian radio
Adieu chalet of the sweet potato
Adieu vile sets, the oblique life
that paves black
the squalid grass befits me
Adieu villain city, death of memory