Conjure. Rae ArmantroutЧитать онлайн книгу.

conjore

CONJURE

How did the synthesis

cross the abyss?

In a sentimental story

there is only one

of something:

one newborn,

one moment, one

“once,” embalmed

in myrrh.

All I want

is not to be

first on one side,

then the other,

but to conjure

a stream

of sounds and images

for which I am not

responsible.

and maneuver within it—

mouth and tail

one thought.

The sea, now full

of cannibal

jellies, blue

if the sky says so

UNQUOTE

Take this cup away from me

with its hints

of ammonia and dill,

oak or corrosion.

Who knows, really?

What might ammonia taste like

to a different person?

Roll that question

around on your tongue.

You’ve heard it before

or something like it.

The familiar is enormous!

Red-shifted.

I’m happy to think

of this deep sleep—

“the sleep of the dead”—