Chris GLOMSKI








Notes on Celestial Events

Restless waves

Roll out          

To finding

As in a slouched doll of cloud

Direct the mind to blind-side

Parasitic moon

Whose lunacy

Finger-flicks   

Remove

Well up from singed ticks

Black cheek    

Black marker

This I-beam you’ve eaten

Carry its hovering water

Back across arcs     

Abrasion

Leeching a nest’s heat

Ventricular

Burst of ice

The cuneiform feathers          

Parted curtains                       

Oceanic          

Gust in a maw

The ghost of a mauve

 

convulsed by swallows

 











 




Under the Broom

 

each has also its sweeping gesture

arrointing the witch

 

I remember thinking you flew midway

between the pointy hat and those saturnine

rings where    sometimes your scalp

flashes         Sometimes

indignant         The sun

 

emerges vermicular, luminous

mulching the sky

 

Was the satyr right

is memory satirical         or if it’s convenient

for you to play the pipes and

glide beneath trees does

your face form

communally swift with darkness

 

over the wild dark scribblings

on this paper

 

 

 

 





 

 

The Nineteenth Century

 

 

Masked by the wheels of umbrellas the private faces flash.  A primitive

billboard’s
conceptual flower it’s morning. Soda rinsed against the blind

metaphysic of rails good luck hanging a new sky

 

Too much not enough in advance.  Pointillist implosions.  Sunday afternoon

spent
revolutionizing the swan boat of cannibal economies based on

pineapples and
sugar 


Japan Jena Jesuit Johannes.  Maria Marten in the red barn at Polsted

Containing the
whole Account of the horrid Murder.  It happens the governor

was accustomed
to walk at that hour.  Tripped on my way to Soho and

thieves were all over me

 

More mysteriously, Franz Liszt.  Paris barricades.  Contemplating the

domestic atmosphere from the little house outside.  The banker was

apparently suffering
from dropsy, and resembled a Pre-Raphaelite

manuscript interred with a corpse.
To be retrieved later by the poet’s friends

 

Fango è il mondo.  Malaria insufficiently reported by press.  Where do we

come from?  Where are we going?  To locate the source of the Nile.  Every

morning and night, I’ve always been praying that I and my whole regiment

may
soon be called to do it, and that we may do it absolutely well and proper

 

Away to Montevideo to the colonies of waterproof carpets maps tents the red

velvet of the tongues of fleas draining the marshes and cattails of furniture

ensembles devised for therapeutic purposes, galvanic columns of dark

bodies the wings of electric labor forming oppressive glottals on whose river

memory flows like spittle rushed back by the wind’s empirical crash through

the
hurricane of unacceptably profound stillness like lashes on the M of

Martinique

 

Attacks of kleptomania brought on by elevators and menswear.  A salon

painting hung
in a certain saloon.  Receding in multiple eyes.  Nebular thrill of
the arcades

 

Afternoons alone in the salon studying paintings of a certain saloon.  Earlier I

had
witnessed a skater stoop to sweep a woman’s glove without stopping. 

Several
nights now dreaming of roly-polying in its creases.  Would go to see

that doctor
but have already forgotten his name

 

Cattle from the western states go east by rail.  Grant enduring his two

terms.  “Us”
is not “them,” though in general both we and they build a

bridge.  1899: a
new crane swings over the marsh in our sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 An Idea

 

 Is a phantom    A quantity

of minutes following

a checked bid to

place the afternoon here    To be

continued or carried

in one’s pocket    If the

idea is to win something

big or as definite

as the line

between then and

now without betting

away your

horizons    To be even    Or as

unfinished as mythical as

shipwrecks punctuated

by the cool depths of

their interiors    To be

ridden out    On

the axle of the phrasal

the dream of the scoured

parking lot turns

on a genuine anguish

for the missing car    Pointed

toward some indefinite

quality    The fulcrum of

‘An Idea’    Which is

a poem begun yesterday    Meant

to finish this afternoon    Eidolon

of other time    Away where

we may drive

that car

 

 

 

 






 

 

 

 

It's Not What You Think It Is

 

There is a place for it    Even if

only tagging along    It will

emerge to render its prefaces

transparent    It’s in possession

of the kingdom    Breaking

into blossom it will build

its threshold on sight    Now

it’s listening and

marked by a kind

of velvet eruption    The

cling of it is meant

to ward off evil    Yet evil

flourishes around it    It snows

in some tulips to inhabit

what no one hears    There

was a time when it

was carried by freshets

on the Little Miami

which isn’t where you’d think

it is    Mere geography’s

not it    Sometimes it

confuses the cursor with an I

that stands

around blinking as if

at some remove

from things that falter    That’s

not it nor is it helped

to more than a blindfold

a personification    Once it

is down to a single string there

really is no sort of question you

can put to it    It seeks its

own kind    Crying like a dog    It’s

10 o’clock at night    It is a dog    It’s not

mine    It lives two doors

away    Tomorrow it may

change its tune the way it does

when another dog walks

by    A female dog is not

a doe    A deer is not

blue     True or false    It’s a trick

question    Read it for what

it’s worth    There are many deer

outside Reading, Pennsylvania beneath

the pines at dusk    As if outside reading

its first intensity flared    Then faltered

in an aura of absence    Or so it

is written

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 The Vicinities

 

No way to answer their

buildings    We live    They emerge

darkly    Shining in

physical conversation    Partial to entry-

ways or numbers on

transoms    Beside these are trees or

water that heaves in weather

never admitting to much    Through

their eyes the others not quite

looking back

should be us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Readymade

I brought conceptual ants to the picnic.  That’s the trouble.  The improbability of a certain unresponsive hand.  Chances are your song is playing in someone else’s head.  If you come into the linen like a star; if you are given to swimming the wreaths of the sea.  If the chancellor resigns.  If we pass a certain sign again on our way to the country.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  






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