K.L.I. 1936-2015
The last Freemason died today
carried with him
into the Familiar Strangeness of afterlife
the secrets of unsatisfiable yearning
pothos, from which
his architecture grew.
From absence alone
he made deep song.
from CALLS
A bridge to nowhere!
Stagerite, explain myself
in thy book I looked in vain
and so they closed my eyes on me
now I must write
what I would read
and all the stories start again
and never end.
from CALLS
Be arbitrary. Be anybody.
The world of capital
forgives every choice
just keep choosing.
Only the hermit is villainous,
probably verminous,
disagreeable, old.
All the wrong things. He
of all men is not arbitrary.
He has chosen nothing
and nothing has accepted him
as her bride.
They live together
anywhere far away.
Sometimes I have dared to climb
the easier rock slopes of their abstruseness,
could even hear them talking from far off,
a man saying nothing with all his heart.
from CALLS
twice I was a Christian
no matter what they said
I loved him because he is a door
he said, because he knew himself
better than I knew me,
when knowing is the same as being
Enlightenment is not about light
it’s about ment, the mind
behind light and anything else
from CALLS
Last days. I feel you love
we are only still beginning,
Eden in the rearview mirror
closer than it appears.
We are beginning.
Every archaeologist knows we just woke up.
There seems a pressure in the air
that silences the ears.
Crickets or tinnitus who can tell,
we are newborn always,
immaturity is my sword and shield,
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