And this is a poem from this new book called Vanishing-Line,
and it's called "An Archaeology."
Onyx light.
Travertine green marble walls.
Roof flat.
Rectangle.
Water.
Wall of of glass.
Shades, air, simple as sorrow.
Spare chromium frame columns, stone grain.
Excuse me.
Rough white wall turns a corner and ends for waterscape Shallow
pool with rocks.
Each rock, clear.
A clear crowd of rocks.
Pavilion for warm weather.
Barcelona.
Chairs in a doorless room.
Glass, mullion window.
Panels, floor to ceiling anti-exedra glabrousstone.
Russet reds.
Time's compression apparent, pieced together
with simple precision.
Exacting but demands nothing.
Ornament's absence.
On a raised stone slab with brief steps to connect Earth.
Stone steps, a man sits on to collect a fee.
He could be a thief.
No one around.
Far into the mechanical age, fraction of a fossils age.
Another arrives and hesitantly pays,
then says he's been cheated.
Nothing to see.
The cost of nothing.
Imminent remains or maybe the imminence
of a revelation, which does not occur.
Roofless walls, glass planes gray, white, green, clear
reflections.
Translucent transience.
Space for air.
Another pool of still water, smaller,
surrounded by olivine mineral elements, marble walls,
and roof shape.
Water.
Rectangle of sky.
Kolbe's Morning granite nude in the water.
She gazes into.
Her head turned slightly to the side and down.
Her arms curve overhead.
One stretches forward, away.
Hand pushes up in front of the other hand, fans down.
A bud opening.
Her eyes prepare for light.
Legs and feet together.
Slight knee bend, feet tilt. Flat on a stone.
Slant.
Dance.
She doesn't belong here.
Her curves, her craft, literal.
She is trapped.
At the other end, a small gift shop room.
Ridiculous flagpoles.
This place not exactly luxury.
Not exactly built, cut, sanded, polished, balanced.
Tensionless human tools.
Lines follow rock.
Meets steel, meets glass.
Hot water, as if it's always existed,
anywhere for us to find and recognize where wall ends.
A black cat reclines on the rough white stone.
Sun.
Tail flick, line of stone benches.
M. and I sit.
Lean hand in hand against wall.
Sunlight blinds us with reflecting white waterscape.
Bright parrot shapes flap in the grassy distance.