marble floors eerily solid and real   flowers dazzling, fragrant
the rarity of some of the objects   the hotness of the food
a piece of china manifest both as cup and as fine interference
if personal pain a luxury, everyone dressed haute couture
colorful items about the head the triggers of sexual arousal
gossip an elaborate version of phantom limb disease
a crazy whisper enters the room   memory dopples toward you
her gown engolding heat and light   its seamless hemline musical,
wave formed of a male voice singing the vowel sound "ah"
in her hand, on ice, transparency   archetype with a twist
in yours a cloud-built bubbling   wet fingers   resonant glass
you make a simple, structureless point   you gesture
lines and whorls in your palm telling more than you realize of
labor, ardor, self fabrication, appetite and its seizures
soft clay of the body a milieu embedded in space
the night is real and rich with process   you hear
much further a distance   dinner is served
an enormous body of evidence and some kind of holographic soup
reshape the living flesh in ways that almost defy belief
all experiences are reduced to the same common language
the sound of a slaughter that had taken place here 9 years ago
someone blows a puff of smoke, the problem of inertia
you measure your absorption against an open oval window
a little man speaks in your ear and it's not just a charming aside
the dark intensity of such events gives them a higher profile
something in the present which is implicate & moving toward
making the future a library of all that ever was where
50,000 people screaming for 90 minutes can warm a cup of coffee
the reason soldiers break their step when crossing delicate bridges

Volume Two Index
The East Village Poetry Web
Betsy Andrews