[response to “My old Russian Carpet”]

Extra dimensional railways

I sweep
Through my cloth rug, hope
Another string pulls out that I
may tie our shoes together
Trip all over the shag.  We
With a square of plush in the
Expanse of gypsum sand.

Extra dimensional railways
In pale rays like noise in
A yellow light.  Sometimes
They say if you can’t see
In specks or lines you merely
Sift through overlapping films
Your cones and rods make
Merry, myth.  You, shod
With tools, bespectacled
Armed, wail raised ‘gainst
Swaths of dizzy days, stand.

We sweep
Eyes through veils of sun and
Air grain—find at last
Space looks so loud.

[read the response: ” sweep, eep epe eeep eep eep chirp…”]


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