BEAM 30: The Garden

for Patricia Anderson “To do as Adam did” through the twilight’s fluoride glare Mercury in perihelion (rotating exactly three times while circling the sun twice) to Pluto foot tilt up the slide at either plane and build a Garden of the brain. Internetted eternities, interspersed with cypresses ply ringed air about the many spectacled apples there. Flamestitch niches orb in swivel orb, The Muses thrush at center turning.Phospheros arborescens they sing sense’s struck crystal clarities to knock the knees (or scarlet hollyhock, against a near blue sky). No end of fountains lost among the shrubberies full eye may bare. Fixed stars with fireflies jam the lilac. The Lord is a delicate hammerer. Gold hive upon gray matter He taps synapse (“carrying to”) (“carrying away”) an immense bronze pinecone moon-knit at the end of a vista of sunny jets d’eau, silver poplars. All shivered in a pool. Literally, a flowing: form-take-hand -with-form (That Which Fasteneth Us) pillar to pillar the great dance arch itself through all that is or was or will be, 3/4 time. This will be a glade at the head of one stream and a resonant gnomon before it will stretch regions of signaling gnat-like resiliencies in the atmosphere of where we are — or were. Or will be, when the mingled frame of mind of man is celebration. Gates, which separate the wings of tiered ilex, open in caverns of atoms passing from one into another’s zenith of periodic movement, vast helicoidal shift: a vaulting of arteries beating their heads against the dark. This is the body of light. Vertically in a chromatic spread chord — Elysian elision — J’avais bâti, dans un rêve, un palais, un château ou des grottes