Calisthenics, Week 2

In class calisthenics:

Toward the end of his long discourse a panegyric…still it’s decent pay. Five soldiers fixed by Matthew Brady’s eye. Small mustachioed Turks, digging for the purple Moldovan stamps at Dallas County jail. No stronghold can protect those hours without twenty years delay, poets who fail. He was obsessed with success. Touching is like that, begin by looking for peaches. I can’t envision the howling buoy. In contrast to the triumphal procession of victors coming down the road like a piece of the road dissevered. I am in a house in a Japanese print.


I am a house in Japanese print, a road dissevered,
a triumphal procession of victors. I can’t envision
a howling buoy that no stronghold can protect,
those hours without twenty years delay. Poets
fail toward a panegyric, a long discourse
of small mustachioed Turks who begin by looking
for peaches, obsessed with success. Touching
is like that, like a house, a road, a victory.