Two Poems

LATTICE AFTER YOUR ADVICE

Extant sedge either
Its either like two clocks

Creature or speech “out from arrières
of persons and scenes”
            but slightly more remote
Reducibility is only apparent
What are the straws of which this time is composed?
Inlets necks and mesh-like expansion
Thanks
Planes
Mostly land
This still a fulcrum
like

The vocatives in the sentence “expectation dazzles
the absence time scattered in the desire
for momentary relief”
The remove of the word “extent”
Some anarchic object to ground us
            in our heterochronic situation
What could there be more purely overdone?

There are as many arms of a tree line
            as love’s infinite causes
Here you have a

Body which only exists in addition to
and body following its own curve
Torn apart by fullness
If they join it
is still and sacred
That if a sleight of glade

First close the windows
Just the forest is burning

If only the hors-texte acted in furtherance of its relief
In Honfleur on the foreshore
Marsh hay heavens’
“n.d.” by extension
and the “my dear”
on their backs (not shown)
it closes
in on
“Hey”
 
Each slat in the blind multiplies the present
It’s how they observe
close or early motions
            in their intolerable fragility
When they want the impossibly portioned fact of the future
            all they have to do is refuse it

Do the lashes wriggle when you love your owner?
No light’s all it needs

It’s late today
At a remove
The state slight
Lashed likeness
Provisional total
A little yellower
plum
            you want to mingle with you
            born in the forest case

There are as many of you as
Each sat in the blind multiples
until now seems to have subsided
It’s how they observe

Families starve in the barbs
            which is good news
Their fullness also begins with
“not even once”
They’re incandescent
They’re born older

They say
the thorn wone
exes souse
The cliffs of why
Give
sank

Scatter where in on meets now
a rig of both lashes
torn apart by both
It’s part of the landscape

The beginning just keeps on beginning
But that isn’t the problem

The momentous is slate
There is no relief

LATTICE AFTER YOUR ADVICE

The history “had” betrays
            had not post-temporalized
            was not tired did not feel tired
            crops up
            yon

You can wade in its wed sands
As the twoness of doubt
As world waist
Hide

There are no states
Just winding

Of forgetting
You can accept more body

The eyes wound
rend
In cortège and retinue
            they have packed enough grains
            to get us to another green ray
They are the legs you can see through the table
His right leg you can see through his left leg
            crossed over it
The star M saw above behind him
            in the reflection of the nearly frozen water
            caused him to feel an axe falling on his neck

“We also need to feel that axe”
Pre emanate space

When you touch the horizon for example
you are in fact already below it

D’y
            car
            et
“Quite as fire”

This is my only urgency
It freezes at perimeter
Where state changes
at its the
limits

Sept
            parce que
            puisque
            parsec

So what if the angle of repose is vertical?
Axes are forms of access
Their quills are open hands
            also a kind of “cutting off
            from everything which would
            constantly require a no”

Dire
at the bottom of the eye
            wood
Before its wild debut
            the ire that is not irenic
We roll in that quite
and expect

When the mineral densities spring back
            a higher “are”
            unconstituent
            and redoubtable
            the totality of line
            where a knowledge points
            will change doubling

i.e., the “if” extents are wild here but could be wilder
Vastness is a twinned vanity
To waste without exception when
you would say “this began”

Not even the interior of scenes among almonds
Not a misstate
            of the palm state
            as ledgeless
            as separate histories collapse
            by mesh
            on coordinated locality
            and the arrows giving birth to the animals

A stance of overstep
            that oversteps its expression
Repos
the color
that’s most curved is blue

∩

Maxwell Gontarek has poems out or forthcoming in αntiphony, Lana Turner, Volt, Noir Sauna, Works & Days, Denver Quarterly, and elsewhere. Co-translations with Léa Fougerolle into/from French can be found in verseant. His chapbook, H Is the Letter of the Door, is forthcoming from above/ground press and his pamphlet, A Perfect Donkey, is forthcoming from Creative Writing Department. He has lived in Philadelphia, Baltimore, Las Vegas, Belgrade, Langres, and Lafayette, Louisiana.