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Spool 25


       my faith is
stored in the
wild domesticity of
sunflowers aphids wives
how they reach
and attend faith
by being itself
an action moving
to the sun
its bright target
to point alive
the ravened leaf
by the ravening
eye my Green
sun being swan
I am beginning
to see and
continuing to see

             *

       to be concerned
for things rare
and common and
to care for
them a privacy
of surfaces faces
these are worries
not mapped out
a concrete figure
materializes in din
a hole in
the body body
a night swing
oh fear cherish
fit oneself to
oneself a reifying
glove like action
like anxiety too
to be concerned
for things rare
the agent after
relays of force
needle in needle
your speech mine

             *

       days are clear
but nights are
dark dark night
of the soul
when daughter thumps
and thrashes I
gnash too her
future full of
not so there
a silence dozing
linguistic film so
thoughts bloom in
a second sight
my limited time
or timeless disposition
psyche drain me
apostrophize all shadow
I know not
where she goes
or how to
go to her
with articulate grace
her darkness visible
so I see
can name it
patience please please
dark dark understanding

             *

       and soul clap
hands and sing
and louder sing
this vowel lust
spool it off
time is domestic
yet its velocity
is so cosmic
centrifugal my little
girl's girl her
wavering eyes and
watery calm this
soul side climax
wants to clap
she and me
a raveling spore
in every darkness
a visible calm
our rhizome being
in the dust
bright black matter
continuing to see


Matthew Cooperman

Boston Review

Sept / Oct 2012


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