What I'd like to read from now is a forthcoming book.
It will be out in September.
And it's called Oblique Prayers.
And it has four sections.
The first one is called Deciphering and the second one
is called Prisoners.
The third one is a section of translations
from a French poet who is thus far unknown in this country.
His name is Jean Joubert, about 14 poems of his.
And it'll include the French.
And the last section is called Of God and Of The Gods.
And I'll read some poems from each section.
I think that there are some people standing in back.
And there are a few seats down here and also at the sides
there.
The first poem in the section called Decipherings is also
called that.
It's sort of the title poem of the section.
And I dedicated it to this other French poet,
to my translator some years ago, Guillevic.
Unfortunately, he can't read English,
but I felt a certain formal affinity with his poetry
in this poem.
So I thought he would enjoy having it dedicated to him
even though he can't read much of it.
And it has four short sections.
Decipherings, one.
When I lose my center of gravity, I can't fly.
Levitation's a stone cast straight as a lark
to fall plumb and rebound.
Two.
Half a wheel's a rising sun without spokes, an arch.
Half a loaf reveals the inner wheat,
leavened transubstantiation.
Three.
A child grows in one's body, pushes out and breaks off.
Nerves denying their non-existence twist and pinch
long after.
After that otherness floats far.
Vessel down engine.
Up and over horizon's ramparts.
Four.
Felt life grows in one's mind.
Each semblance forms and reforms cloudy links with the next.
And the next chimes and gamelan gongs resound.
Pondering, picking the tesserae blue or perhaps vermilion,
what one aches for is the mosaic music makes in one's ears,
transformed.