Sunday, October 21, 2007


True genius, Schenker says, is the ability to comprehend overarching form.
I think--more than most people, anyway--I can.
Only--to admit to thinking oneself of true worth is The Sin of femininity.
Even Schenker puts us off with his unapologetic conceit--
and he is a man!


Tiny parasites crawl across my eyes.
I can see them.
I wonder, am I frightened?
and I examine my frozen heart with thin, metallic fingers.
I find nothing,
and my hands ache from the cold.


The clouds are moving faster than I've ever seen them move
across a sky as pristine as cold, clear glass,
and the sharp delineation between them
is, in its own way, significant.
Every vein in every leaf is its own symphony.