Selections from Transfixion by Bill Lavender
commander
sir or madam president
vice-president & treasurer
horror is but one of your
charming fripperieshand-picked from a red matte
this house of the great witch
this moment of life & flood
& flattery out of the bathroom nowI'm dressed as a rose
to entice & burn
to disturb your universe
as trumpets join chorusno matter who it is
in ocean light or dark
that old age wastes
sitting in the sun alonewhere you cross
to the temple of artemis
a creek-washed stone
coalesces with historydeath to be sure but somehow
like redbirds
miracle bird or golden hawk
teeming river & tree
salutespangles two hundred sixty years old
yours for the taking
bring your self home to your
self enter the gardenas if it were all
mine shall we sail
round & round
shoulders & beard scapula &engine an engine
with thin fingers
fit instrument
for a world reclaimed
from beasts& the fiction of
a voice beyond boundariesdays feel like marches
form after formless form
back & forth
so various so beautiful so new
setting down these lines
to punish youpomp
all that man is
a breath a chance at
ripples calling
on a vacant lot at sundown after work
event horizon
face up he rolls
a wide-open fall
where nothing exists but
the time of yearletting go of branches
tugging at the way
like a river that hurls
toward unremembered pleasureshe recognized the valley
at peace in nature & language
his sangfroid self a frond
returned to a high strandmanwhat a feeble tenant
what part of yourself cant be
hauled in a shroud
or voices can't worm throughpoplars stand still as death
like a turn or gesture
a headdress of fresh flowers
or a story without plota river sings
even at dark
even on the ocean floor of taboo
even out of mirrors that stare& make you aware of whose bellies
leave the half-trees torn & twisted
I do not think things through
when I take to the riverours is the wedding-garment
ours the shroud
ours the movie of a shadow play
as quick as if the vision touched you
kinder
kite & wilderness what
joy to measure
in a cave
her silken flanks w/
garlands drest then
bang & we emerge
with barfly remorsea whisper dies
the meaning of her black eyes
the richness of her manner
the slightly dishonorable pastin the day she feeds birds
but hasn't got
the holes half full
what difference does it make
if her firmament spills into the roomon the french coast
I will stand a long time
recovering pleasure
the heavy surface
of what was said
by the oral to
the written
indecipherable cause
neither arnolds intersection
nor whitmans simple folkwe'll walk through the valley
through the herbs & sweet-cress
though I will feel lost
waters from mountain springs
trail between love & state
a confirming skin
a temple to colonizemy probe into your anus
ovalness where my love
is the age-old rock star
becomes an autobiographya male is not less nor more
a flow of clear liquid
official greeter
a loss that will not seem sodancing on your breast amorous & slippery
I was ten when you buried me
& the gates of the body
with two cracked handlessecret writing
trails from the heaven you create
meme war
lets begin at the beginning
diaper pins in my fist
where else do we do
soundings but herelily song
willing & yielding
quivering when it comes time for you to
lower your eyesI had to kill you
in that rhythm
& now sex is what
does it for me
& for you
suspended in sleep
skin so fine
or finally dreamedthe train clicked & sighed
I want to be buried in it
like the severed head
of an outlaw
like the doctor
of past existence
sculptor of private needs
fact paralyzed by factfrom self-awareness
embedded in situ
to end up dreams touching
where we lie sleeping
under a bridgethere were so many birds
the bushbank
grew still as we urged
our paper-weight hearts
our cheek maps of outworn days
through shining trees
mistaking cultural history for a
sensual tale our
bloodshot drunkard's eye
seemed to give
a summary to the plantsdailies on the corner
on every side of
the making of heroes
manchildness &
tricycle treads scribble
the nuclear son
born of woman
man born of womanbefore I begin again
put me where
I cant hear the plans
like sparrows in a cloudless
starless lake of blue
me
come taste this
fruit little gunner
he said
sailing like
a blind fool
his fake neutral air
drowned in a book
a crook in town
to repent but
it was too late
in the cold living room
to take off
his tie
to touch
the strange lumps
beneath the pineblackbirds boozy
the emperor's drunken
soldiery abed
seen over &
over same old
sea same old
sound
shrill & summery
that even in
slumber caused
his cheek to
glow every man everywoman carries
this filament
life predestined
surly & interested like
the coming-on of rainI infect with
meaning something exact
as reality's dark
dream when the
lanterns go out
the matching skullcap
& map of brain
his peat-brown headmusic from a far off room
like these
mountains this
infinite movement
mingling with all
sound all
thought the dull
sobbing draft
that moans the
image of your
public selfhoarse from
days drinking
anticipating a message
to the armies of
those engulfed
in black waterwhy does his mind
envy reed & hawthorne
is it to have
a point again
arranging & changing
& placing the eye
again dehumanizedhe has a dozen hands
& pollackesque friends
to make germinate
language as
a choir of worms
saying names
like money spent
on misconceptions
whose silver cargo
vision banishedwhen they pulled
me from the sack
I reeked of you
I defiled you
the ways you live
your secrets of life
joined in spite
in the attics of
old houses
proud full of verse
what little town
by river or sea
gates the flaming
word that is yourselfwhat pursuit what
struggle to escape
cuffed & clawed
but not crying
what wilderness future
light of our knowledge
yields this penelope
who would reduce
our banter to
rules of probabilityplanted on a star-lit
golden bough
the necessary
the tap
the tap that
nothing satisfies
but self remembering
self its former height
its discordant strains
its brain that ink
may mark with vine-boughshe lay
back eyes closed
the eyes of
youth to roll
it is a journey he said
of the curious
not to be wed forever
but like one who watches
down the row of
statues to see
the divine nimbus
a music
a rose colored
dress
we took our seats
& ghosts & armies
came downgreen butterflies
from the age of loveshadows of
earthly vehiclesthe sea of air
the perfumed
agony of a tranceyou who gave me
my first youyou where I is
a roomful of clothesflame that no
fuel feeds nor
steel has litflame from
before the surprise
before affection &
shameyour body
your loves
your farewell
agon
collective agency even at home
for elegy elephants
riding seaward
bobbin bound in mummy-clothslight is subject slight is praise
a fatted wanderer through wood
a broken manifold
a certain time selected & assuredI loosen myself pass freely
as a little child
while about the shore
those that cling ripensuauiolum dulci dulcius ambrosia
cut to the knot-core of his heart
elegyrevisited soul
refusing to believe
a former selfs
airport rituals
a purple ribbon
on the bed
till we are
all recolonized
it is a war
for this worldto keep it
to keep
the it
not to think
not to remember
not to discover
the opal light
along the bankplots of cottage-ground
orchard-tuft
eye-fringe
iris of
guardian of my
earliest & happiestsmall silences
the true
brain in its folds
inside the skull-frame
lorry of passion
& lapsed intentionwhos imagined
seeing
& seeing
behind
gossip from the ghostsolidity of bark
leaf or wall
made me
dream of happiness
cradled in these
arms & eyes& the temple
in the mountain
smoke-filled
wants accuracy
wrong in the mind
& in the bowels
the groans
of trampled men
dumb in the
bright morning