Keimer in Barbados
i
stool
predestined
horizontal / vertical
man & man
ii
think of it as | something like
a gauze, or, in 3 dimensions,
a stiffened sponge
1)
the fine grain, the quarky
waves in waves, jarring against
waves oily & panegyric
these lotusbloem
2)
passed through smoke
smoke as an erasure
erasure as spiral swirl of Keimer
with flecked red devils
sparks
3) soap
We are the fallen,
about the hot sand
the drying suds
iii
Keimer
back to / back towards
America
iv
Keimer’s eyes like ‘a pig poison’d’
in a
cloak
the lines of its folds
with their action straight down
(their action upon one another
refolding and deleting),
coaxial waves.
Keimer, befuddled at this introduction
then finished, impoverished
in Barbados
still in his cloak,
a journeyman slaveholder,
those cloak waves now horizontal wave as
waves comma.
Wrote straight into composing stick
fuck the stove
I
the sweat the sand & blood
on Barbados
I am Keimer
creek moose