The Great Rotation
1
the blue and green,
revolving
changing shape,
spinning
the black
lagoon and stars,
road, ahead
of new beginning
spiraling, behind
in the negative
turning, and the nothing
that was,
out of Crispin self
that sea
revolving
tumbling figure, through reeds
The GreaT RotaTioN,
the myth
of the leaves
SPace from distance,
to ClaP oF HandS
diamonded or striped
handprint
or shard
that Achilles was there
to—, stop!
Seen in the light, glancing,
height
from leaf fallen, dance
into flash
each year— day
round, moment
CrisPiN Mind.
puzzle piece
the idea, arriving
shapes
passing,
in elliptic
flung notion
around the sun
shadow
shading
stripped down shape,
line and color
target
Achilles fancied,
death
whispering—
OH! Thou Orb,
Aloft!
his vital force
to keep—
Sunflower self
Song along the road,
the order— found strewn
revolving through,
green
and sky
and blue remembered hill
over and around,
the swirl,
in nebulae
sacred pause
and second thought
that tree at the center
the blank in the eye
seeing,
the forest,
himself
burning forest fire dead bark beetle woods
HE WAS REACHING ACROss AmericA
American Pilgrim,
PoP PilGriM
some PoP, EpiC pOp—
The MorninG
always came incredibly
the order,
spinning into poetry
landscape rolling
Jack hoped he’d never tire of those clouds
ReducE and RadicalizE,
JumPing OuT.
imaginative height—
a history of jumps
that bush, to mountain,
the crickets
Crispin warned off—
death
was in each moment
passing
in the leaf falling yellow
there was irony enough
tearing at hope,
come around
the green rolling planet
CeRuLean shape,
the fear, the fear
gobbling him up
the bottles spilling, breaking
slow motion
He—RO, Ho!
through flowers,
the IndiaN GlinT
turning and returning
cyclical revolutions
rotations
of day and night,
going round
and round
hatched marks
into stars and dreams
same bare feet
kicking, suspended
over smooth flowing
water reverie
space, the distance
head over heels
the RealitY, ShieLd
chugging along, horizonal
lonesome road
stumble bum
sage and boney words
He HO! Ro
wave after wave
out there
tail flickering—
feathered friend leading
bright speckled thing
wriggling
the luxuriant
dripping green
August leaves rushing
escape from that linear
jump into
thrown across the floor
the Hero’s head,
HooBLA Hoo— Ru
it all went round
tumbling childlike
made it all up,
Jack’s GReeN home
the monster’s mouth
FlOWeR MountAin
the serpent and flower
seething in the grass
the waves
written over
and then again
snaking river
flags, waving
World Mountain
alive, to Crispin
though Jack would rush
to see each day,
were still— alive—
quiet, spot of a revolving Earth
breathing in
breathing
the flower
an imagination
lifts his all too human arms
in the attitude of prayer,
in awe
a Sublime
ONE
swallow winging in blue
chirp
tree surging,
upward and around,
one who sees this
“No saben el camino”
consuming chaos
not yet hardened —
only in passing
breathing in and out
day lilly, one each day
each a big bang and
A Flower.
the moon the stars dissolve
breathing Crispin
hero Achilles
Jack wondering
WalkinG STICK AFLAME
HAT OF SOLAR CONSEQUENCE
SHOES OF QUICKENING POWER
WALKING IN REALITY
sensing a shape
that removed her to the stars,
Nodded in that way,
in the gentle wind
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