I am aiming...

I am aiming for the hermetic statement
for the totally inaccessible wotnot

for stardust & gibberish
& a wind that blows up suddenly

& rubs its back against the side of the house
creating new music and new seasons

spring is a butterfly that passes
before our eyes & then is gone

a sound that is shaped like a mouth
& then two sounds which hold lengthy conversations

& finally a blizzard in which there is only one sound
which is a finger rubbing against a pane of glass

and outside of the window
we notice that the stars

have assumed new places in the cosmos
thereby creating in the morning newspapers

a thirteenth astrologic sign

we live at 4350 montclair avenue & it is
the 10 millionth house on this street

which stretches around the world
and then passes by the front door

& from the picture window we are watching all humanity
pass by in search of a job or a piece of meat

or a bit of bread to gnash between gums
either cadillacs or a silver arrow

or a horserace or a bullock cart & all of china
comes wearing a blue suit made of cotton

the buddha boethius a bronze replica of igor stravinsky
the pope and the entire olympic team representing

several outlying planets & beyond
pass & the 4 horsemen pass

until all humanity passes
with their collective bundles of worry & anxiety

a barking dog dostoyevsky's desk executions
in bangladesh & the north prairies

of snow & wind & a season in heaven & a season in hell

(from The Trees of Unknowing, Vehicule Press, Montreal 1978)