Greg Darms



And, as is fitting for the next of a
finite series, the small world view of

two hundred sixty-five of these
conjuncted lineations concatenated

not as a string of takes so much as
what I forgot while in the other room

returned as the prodigal sibling
to the brink of the page: Hey, Bro!

The abrupt, abbreviated, absolute
audacity! In three short letters

you—well yes, I had to bring this up
not yet having finished reading them—

Really! This is about something you
never knew, the connecting function.



The circumboreal ecliptic (yet partial)
That orbit, hemispheric, which

Bisects the figure, like fruit
Juicy in its moment, imagined

Bound to miss someone below in shadow
In the fated impossible—was she the one

Thus the stasis-in-motion of solids—iron,
Core of gravity, parents, the firstborn

Stirring as the tangent approaches, the formal
Light touching the model, which

Splits—two walnuts in fist, one cracks
And it falls—think that way of Earth

The designated meridian, the zero place
Where it starts again, complete, conjoined



Start with some propositions and prepositions, compile a lexicon, play with parallel and orthogonal constructions and functional conjunctions, consider chiasmus and the lingo of scientific process, wordalize to make of mind and voice a mark (in someone else's ear and mind) not unlike a Franz Kline gesture in the eye.

An ordinary square inch . . . is a chaos.
—Richard Elkins, What Painting Is

And when mind initiated motion, from all that was moved it was separated out, and all that mind moved was divided, and as things moved and divided, the rotation greatly increased the dividing.
—Anaxagoras of Clazomenae