W. B. Keckler
Flowers for Non’s Ear
that courteous labyrinth
dendritic as music will be
lazy respect
termagants who kiss harpies
the royal unless
follows everyone swift
rider soon riderless
why do you keep yours
a mere cartouche
I remember you
gauche Arachne
doddered endoscopically in paintings
poikilothermic really
whose Saturdays now
do you kaleidoscope
endlessly holothurian
dividing under stress
seaside mentality
rationing power
ciliated mossy pubic eyelash
peering at me through tubes
(Did you know in Ancient Greek
pearl is heel?)
lenticular pleasure spots
thermal uprushes
anemones under
gardens of appearing
Minos applauds
crayon fix
as ancient Rome to Twombly
what’s impossible
the mountain of putting
off in a book
subtly deceptive
the drooping barkened (mute) respect of Pasiphae
seems most wise
rock-gnawing flower
who named you?
humans
in their un-wisdom
their wishdom
we tread among the void-flocks
lip and velar
clouds to embrace
the only question
will nature’s
nil of parentage
hurt these
far enough?
stellar
mishap?
W.B. Keckler is the author of Sanskrit of the Body (Penguin), which won a National Poetry Series Award in 2002.