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Poetry

Stay for me still life, ceaseless
tree, stay. Stay who stays
the real, you root of mind, you
constant mote. Pruned shoot, sealed
board, beam of sudden come back
for me, please. Wood you. Say. For me, last
possible whole world, for wouldn’t-me
still possible to believe, for place stay
put, for fruit in fool, for call against but,
meal against fell, guest within the rule
in will: you all me. You me me.
Who promised me. Who likened me, made
fetish me, and grieved me, but pleasure
me? Hunger me. Over-stander me.
Bored me, my act. Stay for me.
Come back to flee the rest of me,
to specter me and put an end
to me, to negative me through
and through. For I consume too much
of me, poor me, for my feel-possible you.


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