the persimmons in the north
change from orange to green

"...am scheidewege"

he crawls up out of the ocean delirious,
                                         thirsty

              (a new creature of spanish moss secretion
                      and kelp innocence)

and weeps at the chartruse breast of tara
unable to find the fifth and seventeenth keys of
                     dorje grip
and the wheel is on fire
            whistling lightyears of
      refraction,
                    vortex and
     spectre

(he dreams he's "prismette and mudra")
           rock candy shock ra
rioting and thunder in the sacred grove

        catherine spinning out

a transformer blows up at the crossroads

"...am scheidewege"

       power outage in the tunnel
           hush at the stoplight.

dimes and monocles raining down
on a subsystem of semblance and
                                   hovering

      she screamed
"it'll take savoy goggles"
                    with her
megaphone--ritually encased in
                lama thigh marrow powders...

despite maelstrom and vesuvius rewind
despite amnesia hyperdrive+glance
                                  control panels
despite catching the golgotha spear in
                 the throat upon replay
despite jean d'arc and her singular pile of
                 misplaced rose, ash, oracle
despite ossuary Aufhebung cults
                 in prague, riga and
            topeka
despite huevo supernova waltzes found
                 crackling between the antlers
of this seaspray-emerging patron saint (of all
                                that is
                 submerged willfully)...

ex-golden-calf-aficionado pirate radio
            now broadcasts the latest
tracking reports...

theories of fin and fungi disrupting all discussion...

ghost "icebergs" have been reported seen
               in campfires throughout
         the pine belt...

the Northern Lights have shifted Poles
               and are mushrooming crystal finns

corpse of engineers dispatch
     mayan artifacts from alaska

while she makes complicated gestures
     to yum caax the corn god

then materializes at the column of ra
    in the grand canyon
takes the tiers down to the stone egyptian
    palming an arizona lotus

hearing hieroglyphs with blue fingers of the oversoul

head beam, rockhound, rope
on the lamb with a ham radio in whalebone corduroys
    he crosses new mexico, extinct oceans

above the cantina in the second story is a temple
where hildegarde of kentucky plays a dulcimer
    inlaid with bone spirals
a shipwreck and a castle in her aquarium

a sonic map takes him across several borders
    sunken ruins emerge in the black sea
the king of sardines bursts up for air
            ascends the rope ladder
and signs the language of the sirens
         in a meteor shower

the moon is a drunken orange, flaming
the fire fighters go back up the copper shaft.








The poetry is an excerpt from a book that A. di Michele and Amy Trussell have been working on for the past year, tentatively entitled UNGULATIONS. Another section of the collaboration will be forthcoming in LOST & FOUND TIMES.


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