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A MISSAL LIKE A BONE

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Written by Jerome Rothenberg

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 Link by link
I can disown
no link.
(R.
Duncan) I search the passage someone sends & find a missal like a bone.
My hands are white with sweat.
I lay my burden down the ground below me shrinking.
The more my fingers ply these keys the more words daunt me.
I am what a haunt averts, what you who once spoke from my dream no longer tell.
The book is paradise.
An odor is a clue to what was lost.
I seek & speak son of a father with no home or heart.
I bantereed with a friend that there are speeds beyond the speed of light.
I spun around.
the calculus of two plus two, the mystery of false attachments, still persists.
I settled for a lesser light a circumstance found that my words rang true.


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