..
.
snow glittered to the wavelengths of a streetlamp
on swells and bellies of the yard slope
down, across a white savannah
from asphalt to nirvana
at a window I stood looking out
forever in a moment
in today or yesterday or mañana
enmeshed, engaged, rapt
and un about
senseless to the dialogic loop ever playing in this headspace
of fruitless whys and how-comes, a chronic head case
stopped now ….. still ….. synchronized ….. void
empty ….. apophatic ….. absent ….. unalloyed
vacant as a black hole
silent as the innards of a whole note
vibrating to the rhythm of sixteenths
unmoored, unsyntaxed
adrift and tuned
until a plow truck threw its plume across the driveway
and broke the spell of un-about
and I was back and bound again, too soon
.
by Jim Culleny
2/8/14