The Matter

--Norma Cole

       The chatter of the world is just a breath

       Dante, Purgatorio

Conditions in the moment

conditions in the present moment

conditions are melting in the present moment

 

loss in different tempi, a striking

concentration of them, in it and

of it, but when the state withdraws

 

from the social contract, a walking dream

the armature a striking concentration

removes system from sound

 

some day will mean these large scale

stained glass windows seem essential

to private time: moon in Scorpio

 

fallen asleep but not where you

wake up: can you place this photo

from the broken old bible? Tell us

 

the end and ruin everything, the pink

cloud, the ridgeline and everything

grassland, aspen groves, stand of

 

redwoods, trees make the light

sense of distance, prospect

everchanging feverish refraction

 

mind not inclined for the story’s

not found here