Imagine—in front of us—they silently pass. And they believe unrelated
   objects are machines
for recognizing the human. And, again, we are no longer interruptions.

Imagine—in front of us—the beginning is not a study. And they believe
   the cicada's larva
reveals narrow secrets. And we accompany: to form, to shape.

Imagine—in front of us—a beautiful garden. And they believe color is the
   shoreline's end
where we abandon our too sudden bodies. And, here, we are carriers of different
   significance.

Imagine—in front of us—each word devolves a lexicon. And they believe
   shape shuts on a hinge
within the voice they fable. And, here, we slaughter the spring lambs.

Imagine—in front of us—they pass us between nature, between history.
   And they believe the door
frame alters the curtains' flow. And we are a dark summer moving against oceans.

Imagine starlings circling in a postcard's blue. And they believe oration is the living
   thing, the end
of geometric space. And here, in full sunlight, we are gifts hoisted to the vanishing
   point.

More by J. Michael Martinez

Xicano

as light
               shaped by trajectory.

a wind settles in the body.
Echécatl the breath, the flint & spark.
the house of prayers.

I am

when sounds exchange questions
when light enters the lung
when given

the noun:                a variable absence
a law               pinned to a quail's wing.

White

               as the meat
               within the shell

as the shell before the caw

a bleached weed
               a fig
dusted to sweet the skin

egg albumen of peacock
               butterfly

held to the ivory of oxen hoof
               pulling
               the space

between sins               I am

               as I am so

the host               on the tongue
               God of Bread

complexion of conquest
               the salt of Lot

as God is
               a crown of thorn
               diadem of wheat

so am I the echo
calling fossil back to name

amaranth ash               spread across the light

Meister Eckhart's Sermon on Flowers and the Philosopher's Reply

A hollowed singularity exists in flowers 
like pathos in a dandelion: 
an eddy of fate, degreeless, 

silvering through memory.
A scabbed consonant departing
the sentence: locust petal, bromeliad, 

a surfacing shame, lightless, beyond hearing.
Solitary, the clock circumvents sound
and a horse importunes 

a wasp bowing before significance.


                     ●


It is in fact doubtless a wasp bows before significance
degreeless in a dandelion.

It also stands to reason that, in a clock, locusts circumvent memory 
in order to depart through fate.

And anyone can see that singularity exists lightless
like an eddy of pathos surfacing beyond hearing.

In conclusion, however solitary 
(and you know this as well as I), 

a consonant will always 
depart the sentence before shamed by a horse.

Related Poems

Untitled [I grew up in North Adams]

With wind chill, it was 40 degrees below. It was utterly beautiful. The hawk and the eagle not having flown there then (not) visible the prints are on the snow in bright glare. (Leslie Scalapino, Dahlia's Iris, p. 104)
I grew up in North Adams. The snow on the summit is thin, frigid no humans
          self       memorial for the fallen soldiers  expropriation this land    I want 
to know why western civilization concerns itself with the individual,
individualization        elegy alone, elegy 

A way for society (power) to say, you are alone

Realizing how the stone looked covered with a primordial lake
During that time        moraine deposits        stone here from inner earth 
cataclysmic      hard and shimmering      no birds, it is much too cold

Differing body types, different   massive animals        long necks animals here 
eating the vegetation, towering, they were reptilian  human brainstem, reptilian, 
scat: dinosaur

The way is the logging road state forest no one 	missing in history
No women       there were, obviously    but missing

Summer, no birds, missing
Missing, was it acid rain?

Inside the mind, the enjoyment body
Symbols arise and text   out here, this is mind

Down now, off the precipice      to a small white house, heated
One's intrinsic awareness        white light inside the refrigerator

Vegetables waiting