/ Re-reading Borges' Poetry
Anne
1997.1
— for Anne
The precision of this statement emerges from the chaos of the past
this pure force, like the rhythm a dripping faucet
annotates the aporia of history
touching starlight I leave night to the earth
night that licks the earth’s crevices: that forked memory
No Man is a man, No Where is a place
a No Man in No Where has written these
lines I must decipher in the shadows
I give up scouring the world of dust for the author, and lift my head to see
a librarian, negligently, just for his livelihood
preserving the order of the universe and books
January 1997
Printed from Cerise Press: http://www.cerisepress.com
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