January 16, 2007



(for regina writing her exit)


but for the death of each word

it's this white pall of the page i must bear



white pillow of the page

that leads me to [poetry?]

luxurious open space

for my eyes to rest




quiet enough to listen

to see what's listened to beyond

nothing to do with thinking




a private language written in a secret handwriting




this strained white tension of silence

for my words to blurt




but how can i not help erase myself

in the ridiculousness of

ink the embalming fluid of

words the sarcophagi of

thought the death of






what if by greeting each other

we speak poetry

what if our language upon arrival

breaks down into profound syllables of seeing

i mean seeing each other as an ecstatic first moment

and when we part

as if we'll never see each other again




inhuman and obscene

breaking the dreaminess of your morning thoughts

reading a newspaper




as seldom as i see you

your death with me is ok

i know you are always where you're supposed to be

our conversation continues

the look you give me continually guides/chides




stretched out on the beach

i am the horizon

stretched out on my bed of sand

cry of gulls rolling slamming surf

as the horizon i will also be forever



—Craig Czury


from IN MY SILENCE TO JUSTIFY, FootHills Publishing, 2003



Posted by dwaber at January 16, 2007 01:34 PM