such a gorgeous entrance

such a gorgeous entrance




as the rain in small

drops inter




that stretch the edges—


from within

the witnessed margins


she and the heft

without an edge—


“the word

moon doesn’t even appear

in the calculations”—


to not know what to do

in the collapsing figure,

to admit not knowing


indulge not knowing


“a gorgeous

entrance”—a decision


she places herself along with the furniture,

one with the woodwork she—


not so much as a breath and she’s

a no name story

with such big windows





Emmanuel Hocquard’s POEM (section 1.) is quoted: “the word moon . . .”

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