from Debths

- 1937-

A work of art is a world of signs, at least to the poet’s nursery
bookshelf sheltered behind the artist’s ear. I recall each little
motto howling its ins and outs to those of us who might as
well be on the moon illu illu illu

                                     _

Antique Mirror
Etce ce Tera. Forgotn quiet all. Nobody grows old and crafty
here in middle air together. Long ago ice wraith foliage.
I had such fren

                                     _

Our mother of puddled images fading away into deep blue polymer.
Seaweed, nets, shells, fish, feathers

More by Susan Howe

Pythagorean Silence [excerpt]

1.

age of earth and us all chattering

a sentence   or character
suddenly

steps out to seek for truth   fails 
falls

into a stream of ink   Sequence 
trails off

must go on

waving fables and faces   War 
doings of the war

manoeuvering between points 
between

any two points     which is 
what we want   (issues at stake)

bearings and so

holes in a cloud   are minutes passing 
which is

which
view   odds of images swept rag-tag

silver and grey
epitomes

seconds   forgeries engender 
(are blue)   or blacker

flocks of words flying together   tense 
as an order

cast off to crows

The Midnight [For here we are here]


For here we are here
BEDHANGINGS
daylight does not reach 
Vast depth on the wall
Neophyte

Alapeen Paper Patch Muslin
Calico Camlet Dimity Fustian
Serge linsey-woolsey say

A wainscot bedsten & Curtans
& vallains & iron Rodds
Many bedsteds were roped
"Bedsted. . . .& bed Rope