My first painting will be the accuser.
A tone of bats and conch shells emulate
leaded, finger toss the wheel, and the answering to the wheel.
Matched Vedic before any horses, the heavens
are an open and land, or not me.
We did that to the totems.
It will be, round from here, a red
in the corner to barely discern, painted over
with cricket marks and--
Did, then, the dead, packed in cylinders,
sinking at the center, or also in flames, rising, under it,
fleeting purples.
What are northern lights made of, and who are their makers?
This sacred spot an infinite dots
said hello to Mars, who was so close, and paid for it.
Into this hole, like a puzzled panther waiting,
made something more infinite than was there before.
Hydra gave birth in that harbor, done made cages out of it,
and then looked in, we at the picture
of us making cages through the automatic camera, remotely
snapping and framed, the background all mountain
animated, frenetic, soaked with animals.
What can be undone in a second can also
be made in half the time.
Doubtful.
Pine or eagle, orcas, ripple sky, prickle, electric eyes
made of metal poles, rods to lightning shots
and body voltage.
Vertiginous, craggy shale schist, or veil.
More matters matted, a yawning wax.
A muted watercolor walks in verified harbors.