The Impossible Machine
A CUBIC WOOD, a longer poem
page 5
Suffice a cubic wood
trees escaping like tendons
eclipsed in mist
the body a forgotten flower to the mind
Dwelling apart from that air
rarified from the real
dwelling around its total form
the world forgotten for a spell
certainty a trail of mist
Suffice a cubic wood
bold blunt columns
smudged with shadow
breath sifting leaves
The sky trailing ghosts
bulky closets of night
seemingly deformed by silver
shadow descending like unfelt silt
stars winding like lost ships
Suffice a cubic wood
withstanding like a bitter sap
a night's trespass
the trunks impossibly still
My limbs stiff
a forgotten man
reembarking bodily
awakened to the morning
Stepping, molting from the cubic stand
towards where the light meanders, in further
fields.
PAGE ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE
Suffice a cubic wood
trees escaping like tendons
eclipsed in mist
the body a forgotten flower to the mind
Dwelling apart from that air
rarified from the real
dwelling around its total form
the world forgotten for a spell
certainty a trail of mist
Suffice a cubic wood
bold blunt columns
smudged with shadow
breath sifting leaves
The sky trailing ghosts
bulky closets of night
seemingly deformed by silver
shadow descending like unfelt silt
stars winding like lost ships
Suffice a cubic wood
withstanding like a bitter sap
a night's trespass
the trunks impossibly still
My limbs stiff
a forgotten man
reembarking bodily
awakened to the morning
Stepping, molting from the cubic stand
towards where the light meanders, in further
fields.
PAGE ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE
by Eucaleh Terrapin