Wanted
when the
Inquiry
claimed
Anything
diffusion
Going now
to
Brilliance
Stark
folly circumspect
Gone for
miles
And
miles towards
Pure
radiance and
Splendor
the whine
And
grasping happenstance
Pleased
with a sun-
Flower treble
Troubled
bedeviled
No more
then he walked
In the
house to and
Fro in
remission her
Bare arm
blazing
Brilliant
violet
Light
through silent
Stars
and cold forest
Dark
dim leaf-struck
In
permanence
Permeated
with
Brilliance
white
Light
and
Golden.
Moreover
warm especially they
Flourish
don’t want the net
Of
highest fire confidential
At any
rate they remember
Darkness
at their core
Blasting
nothing wave from
Nowhere
more by the road
Of the
brethren of the
Sentinels
lost their way to
The
empyrean white and
Holy
pardon of fire (aroused
Insensate
shoulders
Between
clever as they
Gather
their silver and they
Treat
each drama in their
Garden
unhitching
Their
sons and
Daughters
Inchoate
Somewhere
Beneath
the youthful
Spiraling
star-born cycles of
The sky)
moreover they can
Watch
themselves as
They press
hardfast to
The
ground one person
Praise
perpetuate after
Another
turning away from
The
absolute attainment
Of
shroud hole to the
Staggering
glory of
The
light.
Next
Sunday look at
Spider
jukebox sands of
Swinging
square and
In
precision all the
Make-ready
housed in
Inhibition
cupboard
Roused
his vital
Floating
pure feeling
Wouldn’t
be many
Names
appalled out
Of the
faces of
Archetypes
Dim-lit
in their
Great
day of
The
feast harrowing
Hymnal
can suppress
Their imprecision
On the
other
Hand their
sleep-welt
World
of phyllotaxis
Commonplace
In
English style and
Manner
floating the
Horses
and their
Manes
in the realm
Wouldn’t
tame
Him
happenstance
Nor
red-brown in
Their
accuracy and
Seclusion
out of
The
faces of
Archetypes
Hinged
after
Dinner
blood
And
bones
As
slot-closed
In
completion.
Make
force ready
Peace
formidable and
Glistering
ship sincere
Smeared
enough to
Be sanctified
pristine
In his
virtue without
Pause
in this withering
Quicker
than his dish
Has chosen
to make forever
Ready
to reflect his true
Accounts
pristine in
Their
virtue sanctified
By second
hoyer so
Plainly
had he worked
Worth
having to make
Earth
ready head spent
Upon
the nightstand
On the
basis of
His
eternal music
Perfect
polygon
Generally
Pristine
in
Its
treasure
Trove
of its own
Distinction
had he
Not
toward him
Only
so much of
His
hiring with their
Collars
run up on
Twenty-nine
masters
Of ornament
And
beauty.
Country
of the passenger
Pallor
composed of
These
grids of blue
Oratory
in the
Shrouded
turning
Heavens
Walking
through highest
Kitchen
fossil
Blackness
depth
From
yokes of iron
Rescues
the sure
Enough
the trusted
Resemblance
the
Semblance
of order
From
chaos from
The
best thing of
No
importance
In
which his final known
Singing
widow world
Of
blue heaven sphere
Flickering
green
Blue
human born of
Native
planet
Shorn
of heavenly
Metal stanchions
Altair
looms above
Him
funneled
Lithe
and shaking
Huge
decipher sphere
Up and
let us be
The
ceiling of
Dimensions
dark
Or lightness
They
may
Be.
Sallow
nested time
And
manhood washed
Away
the lover’s half
Asleep
by outer
Circumstances
sail
Unfurled
the banquet
Slowly
rushing through the
Hall
of mirrors dare
Not
look one
Way nor
the other
Before
him nor
Behind
Could
remember neither
Future
tense nor
Past
No
bits of subtle
Heartbeat
sentiment
Hiding
there beside
Him
The
likeness
Of
himself
The
thinly veiled
Consultant
credit
Image
of children
Rushing
down the
Hall
crashing headlong
Maybe
childhood’s ripe
Refraction
judging
The people
Of the
Land.