What lasts in thinking is not
So much the way
As its horizon, the plum side
Not facing us but richer
In contingency

		a lateral
Sheer rock wall
From which hiero-
Glyps wave what
Lasts comes after
The red flash
The negative
Commemoration outside of
Syntax, human
Recognition turned away
From finally itself

		to pinions, one seed
Junipers, scree
Blasted like rusty cans
The prehistoric wind blinds
Us with dust a cactus
Spine goes through our shoe
But we are bent
Upon not that				

The East Village Poetry Web
Forrest Gander