Three Poems

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The follow-through’s turn

When I say mourning
I mean I am freighted

With exemplarity. Examples: candies
This permanent tracking shot Running

come mirrors come televisions come exemplarity
today I am done I am come on either side

to greet this road and also, this road
Is allergic to exemplarity and I must

Take this road from every example
Even if these examples are the document

Of my life and every one I loved. Getting to pack now 
Or now. Getting to the place of plotters plotting

An imaginary for me. They love me. They say
The future instantiates itself in post-death

But I’m running a break in the road. I’m turning
The radio onto the track of the radios, I’m turning 

What made 
My friend

I’m running the future back

To that instantiated future of the made

What made
My friend
My teacher?

Capacity

When I write 
To the place
Where airy

Brooks danced,
I am not 

Pointing
To memory 
But rather

The place where memory 
Did not visit me.

Do not go to the place
Where memory visits 

Or does not visit me. Look, a directive 

A preposition
A disposition
A position

How will 
I move from
The place
Where memory 
Made a tool
Of me?

And how 
Should I be

Certain, this

Time, to

Know, my friend?

It’s Now Ataraxy Forever

It was a display, that beautiful screen 

That held Hell up to me that day. Open it spoke

To me in child words: You are the sole 

Auditor to the display-screen. Coffered means

Adorned, but I hear a sound. I never heard my friend is.

Coffered is the ceiling of the room

Where he spoke to us. It was the room after 

He spoke to us. I printed my name.