poemimage

As I walk the corners of the line square

line square

 I realize there is somewhere “I might live

that is already lost to me”

It may lie outside this plane

On days when my heart circumscribes the straight

wall line

On days when my heart precedes me

circumnavigating the straight

 It is the celebration of this summer

on the lateral

 while my body an orifice drinking through winter

so I go my heart before me

possessing it

and suckle on the end of the line

that divides me from myself

 where if only I were to make it to the end of this line

before the line

so would I watch its own application

evaporate as it goes before me

curling itself into flat spheres that are these points

of line for to be always

receding

before me

 aaah

I know where I am and where this place is

that may allow me to be

It is of course the journey of the line

that joins them to me

that is unknown

It is. It is that it eludes me

were that all my longing would resolve into joy

were it a path to be found

Pierre L’Abbé has translated Pierre Reverdy and is currently responding to Reverdy’s poetry.