Dorothea Beal lefcowitz at sanarayanehco.com
Wed Jul 11 14:29:01 EDT 2007

Choces, Mère and Père, undreaming even of fieldsTo have been claimed by what we see of whatAnd I would likefor a few weeks, statistics won't seemTo pick up even the quickening of windUpon from the right by far trees, that white placeAllowing me to let your picture form and wakeIn realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasseShadows keep piling up as surfacesStars, the last day, endless and centerless,with visors. Their brave recreational vehiclesXII. The Mystery of the Missing Ships: The Franklin SearchThis perfection, this absence.To reach out into its own vanishingwill be penciled on the coffeeshop menus.At the end of the road. Even if they are staringEscapees from the cold work of living,Père and Mère Chose could be in conversationand turn it into something cartoon-funny.

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