I'm a bit shorter.
First off, again, I'm going to also mirror
the thank yous of my previous presenters
and thank the Poetry Center for having
me here, Gail for helping with Francisco to set this up,
Cybele for being a wonderful hostess, and, then, Josh,
that was good.
That was good.
This one is called "Self-portrait as the Hinge
Within the Fable."
And it's for a friend of mine--
Mathias Svalina.
"Imagine, in front of us, they silently pass,
and they believe unrelated objects are
organs to recognize the human.
And, again, we are no longer interruptions.
Imagine, in front of us, the beginning is not a study,
and they believe the cicadas larva reveals narrow secrets
and we accompany to form, to shape.
Imagine, in front of us, a beautiful garden,
and they believe color is the shorelines
and where we abandon our to-sudden bodies.
And, here, we are carriers of different significance.
But imagine, in front of us, each word evolves a lexicon,
and they believe shape shuts on a hinge within the voice they
fable.
And, here, we slaughter the spring lambs.
Imagine starlings circling in a postcard's blue,
and they believe oration is the living thing,
the end of geometric space.
And, here, in full sunlight, we are gifts hoisted
to the vanishing point."