October 2018

In Exodus
Moses is hidden

in a cleft, behind God’s hand,
begging,

and he sees — rushing past him — 
God’s back, diminishing.

Moses stops begging.
God’s back is black fog.

I know. He, we guess,
means to do it,
to do all of this.

The brute center part
of an iridescent moth.

The carnation
against the...

The fresco cracks cooperatively over time. Not to give a secret away
but gradually to break off keeping it. In the sky you make birds
like this, one wing longer than the other, an asymmetrical v
wedged against wind, one stroke longer than...

The aftermath always happening like an airplane falling, or a man
midair falling from a horse, and an arrow, a gun, many guns
pointing away, at us, our all bull’s-eye-on-the-mark. This is what he
sees when he sees. Maybe Wrong or not, the...