It does not seem right,

either at inception

or execution,

from key to hammer to string

forty-eight pieces,

 

well-tempered.

 

Like a clock.

 

Like something

that is not broken.

 

Leave ideas of gestalt.

 

Leave theory,

dissection,

logic,

method,

 

supposition.

 

How many things

are not broken?

 

I like to think the man

from the island of Cos

in the Age of Pericles

and the one from Pergamum

 

like you,

 

would have seen it too.

 

 

*

 

 

How many things

are not broken?

 

(Nausikaa’s Isle: A Tribute to Paul Vangelisti, Postmedia Books: Milan, 2015)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

we spend a portion of the calendar
extending and directing and
defining the clock
its semantics
this is slumber
and in our slumbering
we may find our hands and eyes
their all too frequent
arbitrary and ambiguous placement
though not until we wake
do we ever find anything if anything at all

 

(Denver Quarterly, Vol 41, No.2)