Some Nature by Albert Flynn DeSilver 

(Cover drawing by Marian Cremin)




The burnt glow halo of fear keeping


The burnt glow halo of fear keeping
my body alone. I've understood how
you just have to let flow squeal
through tight turnips in your inattention.
I've understood that breathing into
forgetfulness is a script to covet.
There is music in the absence of scene.
There are clocks clevering this morning's
obsolescence. Any oblong boat of Ceylon
incense will court us to an ancestral flower.
I'm baffled by the miasma curdles, so
I loan them out to you. You of warmth
balloon, you of smiling bone, you your
toasty curvatures I cobble, flesh molding
treasures of the immaculate smolder. Be
us not distracted by crystal, while inhabited
by animal foam.




Reminds me of the goldfinch mine, where we


Reminds me of the goldfinch mine, where we
used to pan for birds in the greenish reeds.

Out near the Estero, where
Drake's beach plays saline dixieland jazz
between strands of loose hair. Yeah, where

the self evident nature of some nature appears

through certain chirps and darts, some slap &
tilt of mute light off the sea. The same self half

hinged to the ink wells arced in bluff strewn chert.

Fog wheels run down, & punch the thin gray
gut of any salient thought.

The sky is to blame.