Back to Poetry
The Impossible Machine
A CUBIC WOOD, a longer poem
                                               page 3

Suffice a cubic wood
a mad towering fist of wind
standing in the clearing
with branches deferring each to each
insects, air-borne dandelions
fearfully carried

The heart hollow yet warm
attention molded to a song
more felt than heard
quiet imprecise paths

thoughts untangled in a tangled wood
or mind forgot

Suffice a cubic wood
standing above a standing man
a still life, every flower a flower
every man a man, yet no hand moving

Thought bleeding or spilling
painting the surface
exhileration thrown out
replacing inward thoughts

all thoughts caught on gilded branches

Suffice a cubic wood
the mind recalls no else
it stood and understood
beside the barky branches

the mind a mindless mood
the gentle grass
intimate with the sun
the hand strewn helpless on the dew

the body fallen like a tumid stone




PAGE  
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE
BACK TO POETRY MAIN
by Eucaleh Terrapin