I've spent my life
in a lone mechanical whine,
this combustion far off.
How fathomless to be
embedded in glacial ice,
what piece of self hiding there.
I am not sure about meaning
but understand the wave.
No more Novalis out loud.
No Juan de la Cruz singing
"I do not die to die."
No solstice, midhaven, midi, nor twilight.
No isn't it amazing, no
none of that.
To crow, to crown, to cry, to crumble.
The trees the air warms into
a bright something
a bluish nothing into
clicks and pops
bursts and percussive runs.
I come with my asymmetries,
my untutored imagination.
Heathenish,
my homespun vision
sponsored by the winter sky.
Then someone said nether,
someone whirr.
And if I say the words
will you know them?
Is there world?
Are they still calling it that?
 
From Threshold Songs by Peter Gizzi. Copyright © 2012 by Peter Gizzi. Reprinted with permission of Wesleyan University Press. All rights reserved.

Poems by This Author

Bolshevescent by Peter Gizzi
You stand far from the crowd, adjacent to power
Chateau If by Peter Gizzi
f love if then if now if the flowers of if the conditional
It Was Raining In Delft by Peter Gizzi
A cornerstone. Marble pilings. Curbstones and brick.


Further Reading

Related Poems
ninth: a conversation between Annabot and the Human Machine on the subject of overpowering emotion
by Anna Moschovakis
Since I'm Condemned
by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
Things Between Themselves
by Heidi Lynn Staples
Chirality
by Rae Armantrout