POEM from the forthcoming CERTAIN SLANTS

(book by Charles Alexander to be published by January 15, Junction Press)

Which Day Was It?

We wanted to begin with a line, begin begin begin and continue, so does the weather, whether or not we blossom, uncovering bosoms and breathless fall, reverence to remember, still the line beckons not straight or curved but repeats for always the next to last time or world or world or word, not getting it right until the third breath, triple-tongued, laughing from the effort, lest we take it too seriously, nonchalant, and care for nothing but effect, something less or more than breathing, last resort of the living, to wander until the dark makes us consider an alternative, until dawn, begin we wanted to, with a line, and continue, suppose the garden supposes a lake and where the air falls to light and