A LANGUAGE OF TRUTH
The aim of poetic language is to bring
The echoes
Of None Speech
Into consciousness,
To preserve as a neural and corporeal aura,
A nimbus,
________The pre-para-linguistic.
Outside the orangey and its orangutan is
A dim silver shivering moss-segmented
Bright, bizarre light,
A phosphorescence that twists into the
Luminous fan-spread fins of a leaping fish.
Even the mosses lose
Their demarcations, their edged, their
separations,
Become silver in silver
Inside
My disappeared self'
Duane Locke
Posted over on Crossing Chaos
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