Saturday, December 1, 2012

5 texts || Glenn Bach


Speak volumes, between the raking of leaves
and the twisting posture, time teetering.

Fields leveled or a mass exodus, endless rows
of curling green leaves, twisting vines

and easy pauses, connections between
unconnected things.  Shore, wet sand

at ear-split volumes.  Saints fade in numbers
or importance, weather and other songs.



          of handguard
of stretchings and sustenations




of of

          no spans or asterisks
suspended inside


                                                  with footnotes at the end?

                                                                                            the great stream


—full text of the opera—

the populace and troops retire
singing.     wine and feast hail
home.     version features a voice-

over.     blow like an iron ball.
all the breath.     sing in fervor.
canyons of this resonant voice.

bugles!     over the traffic
of cities!     over the rumble
of wheels in the streets!

high and clear over the waves!
gray-brown bird singing
over shining cities!

open throats make faithful roar.
grand and sweeping water over
maple leaf.     archetypes singing

over classics.     in the jungle.
of cities and gods.     blow
by light.     as leaf.


We claim.

What state of motion
as a jet flies over a range,
gentle zigzag of checkpoints.

Flange, flying opposite
the normal flight path,
warbling, the mise en scène
of descent. 

The embodiment of the earth whose frame
of reference consists of drones in the form
of an ending suspended, a beginning
long forgotten.

Comprising the steps of.

Enclosed within a thin wall,
a block diagram of the drone.

An alphanumeric display.

A pen and ink plot.


no surprise / the dark /
the distance that lay ahead / *

the early spring without rest /
the entire season in those final weeks /
those early hours of the city
whose roar of day **

begins deeply enshrouded
in fog before sunshine and the promise
of rivers / a fast bridge /
the sun low in the sky / light
on the surface of a puddle
on a narrow tree-lined block / centuries-old
brownstones whispering on wide avenues
in a city of strangers crying out ***

* ISLANDS a cluster many miles
Creator of the moon, creator of the sun.

MOUNTAINS jagged snow
Planets revolve around the sun in simple silence.

VALLEY green, by clear running, of passing
The rushing sound of the wind is absent.

DESERT the tall grass diminishes to sand
Bridges gracefully connect the people.

CITY far is the definition of sprawl
Metal between hammer and anvil.

** Those who complain about the supposed sameness.  Only the very obtuse
could confuse one.  Fearless in such situations.  An entire family
of tiny gestures.  In marked contrast, mostly silences.  Little rivulets
of sound, a climate of easy intimacy.  Minute unfolding.

*** more in terms
of tone     a quiet
hold resonating

the audio becomes nothing
darkness     encapsulating

invasive      overtones (mostly)
the movement     the lighting

hearing it decay
the dark in the distance

No comments:

Post a Comment