1.
The scalpel of the tongue. A drill. A pen.
Equation in the eye. Commanding form
demands a limit (What and how and when
and where?), a quickening thorn. Rise up, perform
these acrobatics of the germ, expand
them upwards, outwards—leap from bass to light
in faceless intervals. (O, stay thy hand,
destroying I. Thou ribosome!) A sight-
read score, a figured base, a codon. “I”
transcribe these triplets, read the sequence, pose
a feeling—rhythm, algorithm—di-
astolic anacrusis of the rose.
The mirror courts despair; an oversound
excises our foundation. Drill and ground.
2.
Prepositions. Propositions. Pic-
ture of the structure of a state of affairs.
The ‘pre-’ reveals relations’ structure (Sic.—
in poetry, creates.); the other shares
with the “reality” a certain propor-
tion. (Rate.) ‘Desire for what’s objectively
perfect,’ Zukofsky wrote. (Desire. Amor
intellectualis.) Yet essentially
a symbol, not a duplicate, of what
it represents, the poem consummates
occasion. Chisel, ear and dust abut
horizons, feeling-clefts, as discourse grates
upon the mind and flesh, creates a myth
of import speaking for, about, and with.
— Eric T. Racher lives and works in Riga, Latvia. He is the author of a chapbook of poetry, Five Functions Defined on Experience: For Jay Wright (2021). His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Maximus, Berfrois, Plough Quarterly, Dreich, The Crank, and others. He can be found on Twitter: @Eric_Racher.