i.m. Anselm Hollo
“And now what time is it”?
asks the raven at the end
of the world.
Time to get with the program!
Here on planet Earth
the program demands
we transmit every message
through the fraying vocab
for belonging.
But look, says the raven.
I, too, am frayed.
Fading into the inky
blackness of my wings
where song is a structure
for the ruins of time
my croak a kind of white
melody ascendant
the spiral glyph of M31
its arms of light
a cosmic call sign
flashing plenitude
& emptiness.
“Like Marx or Helen’s ankles
at the gates of dusk”
quoth the raven.
Adios, all you “guests of space”
soon to be remanded
to an infinity of un-
troubled dust.
But my poems refuse
to get with the program.
They will destroy
entropy forever.
from SONG X, Talisman House, 2014
first pub. in SPOKE 2.1 (2014)
