Norma Cole
from 14,000 Facts

(Not the other way round)

thought shards
lined up

little ships
lit up

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In the night
a pink cloud

later
in terror

nothing
could be easier

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Shadow or cloud
visible aspect

apprehended
source-light

a pillow
of fog

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“Richard, he’s trying
to kill me”

the crown of letters
fly up and down until they

make a sky she said
without words he said

><

In this case, the explanation
was the book, the gap

an example that
cannot be written—on that

we all agree, but
what is it like to be a bat

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Or the young woman with a
coloring book and a big
box of crayons

purple for flowers
we know what we like

shadows of branches on the shades
and it won’t kill us

><

He mistook “and his banner over me
was love” for “set love in order in me.”

no words, no rules, my wildest
dreams, eye to eye, flame, emeralds,
salt--even the sun has cancer

><

Accommodate—new brains
for old reminds you of

hearing this
in the middle
of a motion picture

diatribe, a regimented set
of actors, a single pixel of data

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Broken record or broken heart planning to
journey into the extended dark

forget-me-not
sings sweetly

“tension and dread”
the pirated edition

><

A sign is a symbol for blood-
soaked arguments.
1 with an axe

2 hacks off “trigger” finger
3 does not go to war

><

And we thought it said mud
in Babylon or mind’s intelligent

field of energy, little aura
veiled as though wrapped

If I were old
To draw water
Like this
As if I were old

><

In the mouth
in the eyes
what would it be like

to reveal secrets
lilies of the valley, lilacs
ranunculus, sweet peas

do not excite the doves
reaching for night
let me see your face

><

Lute can mean
her arm becomes

tree branch laden with
mangoes and one hand

to palm the flame
a mortal pain or pang

><

Their lives are longer
than they look

in those days, we had
the windows open

there was another freezer
under the freezer

><

Further harmony
falling from the sky
               (arsenic
               lavender oil, meteor
               dust, flakes of gold
               and cinnabar)

disarming
                              too close
to
   or something
once heard

><

The limits of my
language are not
the limits of my

blasted world
the dread
the pink cloud

was flesh
and blood

><

Was killed at, in
can’t quite picture it

border imagination
what’s locus?

staring at the fog
startled
                              out of
hovering
               oblivion

><

Sunrise

so far you’ve
failed to die

                              (ruthless)
music      still
at hand or at arm’s length

Hermes, the sun
is not ours

><

Held up at gunpoint
respond with fire

They fished his coat out of the
river and held it up to the fire

to dry. When moved to
speak, you spoke