"The Devouring Flame"

*To/For Susan Howe*

did you want to hear
every word of this
unbroken poem
that slides through names
unsettling their meanings?

did you want to break these words
with a sweet rhythm
beautiful to sing?

then think like napalm
sticking to everything
and burning through
the bitter core

the approximate center of this poem. is the locus of its only meaning. which is the it it is attempting to alter as it sends itself toward any meaning. divisible by any number. yet atomic by its own design.

names in blood:names in mirrors:names of names:names of naming

the words i forgot to utter i regret remembering forever after.

sand passes through my fingers. the faster i pick it up. the sooner it runs through and away like a hero attempting to escape the narrative in which he's been thrust. it is a defense against noise. forgetting what cannot be altered. we escape by writing against the Author who inscribes our lives.

as settles in the wake of an all consuming sleep. those made of fire cannot burn; nor touch; nor ever be touched.

stillness is one thing after a storm
quite a curse if perpetual.