Edward Dorn: Our company thus moves collectively along the River Rio Grande.... Whitehare.

     Our company thus moves collectively

along the River Rio Grande.

     The poet starts the strings,

as sleep inhabits the stage,

along the silver of a morning raga,
 
          So this rage disperses

          as the shimmering of its sense

          goes out, Into the brilliance

          of the desert morning Along the vanes

          of the willow leaves along the hallucination

          of the atmospheric realism Into the upper reaches

          of the Yggdrasillic yoga Over inner structure

          of the human thing like Unto the formation

          of the pinnate ash in which our treehouse sways

          and the samara goes wingéd, Oh wild Angelica !

          Oh quickbeam !oh quake and sway into waking,

          With aspergill enter Into the future

     Suddenly the doubled reflection

of a distant butte

appear in the Slingers opened eyes

He speaks the word Whitehare

and makes a wish

for the 1st day of the month and then chants

Have you noticed how everboring

the following day is,

If there be nothing new but that which is

And then he stretched

so that, sitting between the Horse

and Lil, his limbs pierced the windows

on both sides

and the stage had arms.

How like a winter hath my absence been

observed the Slinger to himself

yet unable to stifle his yawn

for his hands were with his arms

off stage.  

                  Aah.....In the high west

there burns a furious Starre

It is morning

Poet, that raga is called
The Coast of the Firmament

Then you know it?

Perfectly

I don't think the Perfect

can be known.

--
www.flickr.com/photos/davecook/

tags: edward  dorn  gunslinger  book  ii  whitehare  poet  poem  poetry  american  

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