Volume 91, Issue 84

Tuesday, March 10, 1998

Summer lovin'


FOCUS
 

Atrophy Dressed in Embroidered Wings

With
A calligraphy bird
By the sea
I saw myself
Through a
Cellar window -
I saw
Identity hiding
Frightened.
A few minutes
Can occur: weeks
Or even up to years
Here
In your
Fusion [fission]
Forest;
Pebbles sprouting
Dreams and
Drugs
Illustrate
The idea of lying
To the Snakes in the

Cellar.
By peaceful death
Of self, my
Sands
Feel cold
All alone -
Dressed in wings
Exaggerating the freedom
We place behind
Intense passions
Pursued through the
Falling of the
Stars through the
Trees where
I am afraid.

I am lost.

If I were to move
Down
The rickety stairs
Where I am
Hungary and impatient
Of the world, would
I find old light?
Would I find oceans
Dipping back to the point
Where sleep
Interferes
With the rising
Of the sun?
Or would I find
That you look
Like me?
Laden with night
As a spectre
Who's words like
The wind
Are of a dream;
As are the sounds
Of your breath
(When others
Are not
Looking).

–Tyler Stone


To Contact The Focus Department: gazfocus@julian.uwo.ca

Copyright The Gazette 1998