Tim Keane
Waving Surface of Spring Flood
water waves on the silkscreen
draw down harmonies waxing
waning: ink-squibs fade in fog
seen so well until new seeing
moves me into myself, off, out
into a strange flux & fluid life
of fishes
Fischblut
Klimt’s women spin,
helplessly jettisoned
by a bubbling river
of plasma; the slip-
stream of bodied
-rushes is not
within the fish,
for how could a fish
be jettisoned within
its own vessels?
thus, the artery’s
a marvelous outside-in,
viz., existence, the sentence
whose predicate is
strictly conveyance.
Tim Keane’s poetry collection Alphabets of Elsewhere is coming out this fall from Cinnamon Press, and he is finishing a new volume, Something Classical in Three Chords. He lives in New York City. www.timkeane.com.