GLIMPSE

it takes nothing—the many flowers beheaded, the grass empty
and uninhabited. transplanted, the roots hang anonymous.

the letter begins in feigned humility. a wheel without spokes
radiates. the unseen value of timid sound, its response empty.

in the drawings of seas and mountains, a doe's spotted back
camouflaged. the sea nearly uprooted where rocks emerge and empty.

sometimes a person posed in a garden. the portrait peers back.
in others the flowers are cut, placed in a vase, this movement empty.

the public and private conflated in a dream sequence. the sinew
of my own intrusion. we find the map, names scribbled, following, empty.

there is a complete list, and I wonder what occurs when order disappears
out of forgetfulness or in being diminished by wear. intention then empty.

surrender, or lack of will, in nature becomes unnoticeable in its disorder. a perfectly
intact bird dead under the dogwood, its shadow cast empty.

when bending the neck to drink from the river. when tilting the head back or
forward to sleep. the invisible navigation embedded, followed, empty.

it is not a mistake when the rustling quiets and then stops. the animal remains                      
hidden. lupita meaning little wolf. one's own familiarity empty.

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ANIMALIER: ON STASIS

the figure of an animal does not pose.
            in its flux it is drawn in 
silhouette, seen anatomical with loss of
            color, light, and movement.

*

two peacocks facing away from one another.
            drawn without feathers as dead sparrows,
their tails mathematic. the similarities and differences
            meaning nothing, context worn away.

*

when drawing the anatomy of a female, da Vinci
            often used animals—the uterus of
a horse or bear. the oddly shaped light.

*

to create an illusion the animal must
            remain anonymous.
in the field there is another field chewed down
            until motionless. how the private disfigures
the external. through distance a quiet hysteria becomes illogic. 

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