PIROUETTE

It is remarkable
how we came to believe
things wound-

up [ that we saw ]

have no humor ( about themselves!
A slight motion
of direction-indeterminable takes) The Clock
& right away the dogs chase after it
believing that they have it on the run!
--Colorful irresponsibilities swarm!
in their singular self-concern
defending their own

[hives]             

      Love takes us
withering upon haggard arms (like bees
possessed of their collective Shock)
from the ant-hill life
(things which can't die, being THINGS, yet

ARE [now being

It is]

remarkable just how) we strive
ever trying
to bind Th'Chaos of constant eternity
with our treacherous & momentary Thought
[of Order] & it's
remarkable, mortal as The Moment

descending along the twisting
human stairs, self-rounding
in a scattering, flat
& ever-winding Gyre ever-widening
winding & winding
to Oblivion The Infinitesimal decimal

with our so straight & abiding
narrow Sense, weeping laughable matters

& speaking out
in the smokes of talks endless talks
always self-choking & gurgling-[struck
Objective! so] all of the predilections of
our Speech... Yet forever do we bring
to the already (overcrowded Galleries
of Continuing) Silence all the
unheard-of noises of our little deaths
crying out to Mortality: We are the ones
who taught You how to die! and Obviously
it is remarkable---