a plank pointing out
th'limit of things that hang in th'balance,
that profit from th'Chance--trying to catch
th'twilight's unlettered wit
amidst th'skittery needling of th'moon's, or
Heaven's wet dance in a sprinkle's limp drums,

or th'Sun's crashed dancers that fill
with a sheening gold (under us)
Day's earthen jugs entranced

by virtue of th'many songs' flights
above us enabling th'Many's scintillants
to dance Truth's tiny torches, under us

th'sunburnt Sacred that sets ablaze th'Universe
with descending cranes, above us

with th'hawthorns' haggard shrieks
under us--attired in a commingling
of starlings about us      

    Ocean's trapped circulars
that publish our flickering along
th'superficial under us

by virtue of the entwined things
under us, upon th'fascinated branches that hover
over Humility's self-hanged, We can never be
too Absolute, on wings of th'crystal

above us, of winds' cudgellings/an/avalanche
of Everywhere' dirges of Autumns, marches-of-
Spring... around us: our past failures' hushness

like nymphs of snow consumed in all-
unsettling ceremonies, worming through
maps of th'Automatic... around us: our fortune's
voice a-green with wrangling whats up ladders
of straw, or butting with stares th'coiled eyes

Everywhere above us, or down Because's back
streets... we launch! about us
by virtue of              

        congregations
under us... of impious cultures & anti-
cultures, we cobblers of th'scary
attitudes atop lit candlesticks, under

us: flame-downs & flares, in errors all-
crossed, in th'Ineffectual's essential, under
us, down there in th'hollow's enough
--trounced by Time & heaped in
th'hug: a Hope          

           above us ... of
th'nations safe in th'bones of Always, although
whipped ever with Indifference's too-painful
stick, above us                

             --We, under all this, in
Th'Ridiculous' aquariums, polishing Vision's wise
prisms with our boiling vigilance, pooling our arts
on depictions                 

         painted--under us--of
stormy lineations turning out Th'Pathos
of Form, under us: Morality's most
hideous himself, Renewal's ruthless

joy, under us, above us, in th'runaway swifts
of Summer that wash out th'slow vultures of
th'Winter ... above us