The Measure of the Circle

come circumference,
come casualties,
what antediluvian remedy,
or tonic - what other spaces
can I inhabit
when I don't remember learning
the how in all this, the end is
almost over, it's just beginning to swell,
curtains or blossoms, growing up in
imaginary fields: unconscious
ones, unified ones, theories.
I can smell the spade when
it pierces the earth, the dark
continent. My up-ended
contents: I have parts of me
that feel white, almost
virginal, like first wildernesses,
first snows. circumstances.
Parting waters in one long boat,
and one oar only to steer. I see temples
in the lines of your using hand, the one
you make with, and trials
in your other, the one you came with . You come
graced and unshaven, bending
with a divided mind, but
nonetheless into
the nectar when it's offered.

Reviews

[DavidRyan]

I don't know what it is about this poem, maybe the pleading nature of it , but it just made me think of every heartbreak I have endured -- romantic ones, artistic ones, employment ones -- it really is beautiful. You have a way with words that I envy. The ability to use words that make the reader almost have to open a dictionary so as to properly follow your train of thought. That's a great talent and you use it beautifully and in all the right places. You have become my favorite writer on here and I'm glad I went through my friends list and found you. Well done, darlin.