back G.C. WALDREP
Watch the Lame Beast Turn
from elegy for simone weil
it must be pure, but not a proof—
a glass waiting, tied as fret-lens
to the field’s scabby haunch—
without war comes
nothing burning, shadow-leavens
in their tollhouses
lean against that spacious drum—
its resinous anthem—
contagious, as every act affirms—
in the eaves & at the altar, the /I/
bears a pilot’s breath
taken deep through clear flame—
house-to-house go
the ripe kings with their candles—
I set the traps—
at vespers, for the ferrous dead—
Canto Selah
three from elegy for simone weil
Renault / Paris / 1935
Watch the Lame Beast Turn
Adelma (Harrisville, N.H.)
Merleau-Ponty