There's kind of an "Ars Poetica" in here.
I think I'll just read it.
It's not that long.
It's a whole another series part of the underneath series.
This is called "Underneath (Libation)."
The Oresteia, Agamemnon--
The whole cast of characters appear in this book.
And so it really is a sequence.
And it's hard to read outside of it.
But this one some of the politics of the book
will be missing unless I read.
I actually should read a different one though
because there's a broadside outside.
And I should read the poem that you so kindly
made a beautiful print for me.
It's a sexy poem.
It's in a series of haiku.
"Two Days."
Full moon lays his hand onto her throat,
into his mouth takes her whole ear.
Noon, this pen hovers over this empty page.
One is free to forget.
Noon, the gate fills to its edges
with the two sides of opening.
Move.
Noon.
Regardless of the gate, buds open all around,
stare at each other.
Noon, evaporation is taking place.
Full moon, your body before me a nameless hill.
Full moon: seeing being seen.
The cold lies in us all night long,
in one spot most especially.
I am not seeking altitude.
Noon: we push until, like a third party,
matter rages between us.
Noon: pushes us into the midst to where spring stops.
Noon: pushes us to where a crown emerges
and begins to lower all round our bodies, tiny rips of buds.
Noon: then even the buds push out into this emptiness.
Noon: the only heaven plays and leaps.
Dusk, with its downslope, a bride, and one
above her all shivering of mind.
Late dusk: a communication between what exists
and what is visible.
That shore.
Who knows what can be said.
Full moon, lays his hand onto her throat, into his mouth
takes her whole ear.