What hands of bear seduction ever slipped
the sleeves of a human unlike him? He could surely sweep
off of feet bears his hair rushed back beneath the bright wind of
his face the snow-drenched pinnacle. His face
gaze of deep distance, the bright bark
buoyant in face one would say “eyelids of the sea”
no man ever needed eyes with eyes like his eyes
he glides in coveted spaces a great whale
beneath our feet his ghosty forehead surfaces
with great whale eyes stare the innocent air In visions
poets will translate his eyes
Forever
will he be felt by his eyes the sphinxed blimps his face
gasped above the grasp of to take flight soon
would sleep kindly his mind on the air this would seem more
true. Glass of his sculpted lips whishes smoothly
in the wishful sounds of him; storms sleep awfully beneath his wings
of Teddy seduction. No notion is aware of him. No birds feel
him enter them. No tree moves. He walks through them
dressed in red blocks of air.
He’s too huge to fits on nets.
J.M.W. Ramm says “a word is simple to the touch, as any surface.
As pounding waves he was born and married by the lake.”
