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Stephan Of Lindau

DISTANT QUOTE

If I stretch my imagination,
how far will I be from your future
importance?
 
Unravel my life, distant quote.
 
Take me staring
into my haunt:
this world.
 
Fit me ahead of memory, drift,
and its rebus. Move
existence back one day.
 
Unravel your quote, distant life.
 
You, the conspicuous mystery
I recite. I will wander, for you,
for others to wait you out,
 
to anchor me down.

This is a poem from 2002.

#DistantQuote

Other works by Stephan Of Lindau...
TAMPA BANANA DOCKS

TAMPA BANANA DOCKS I have a taste for ones gone sweet… to tug back their bitter sheaths in thick flower tongues. The sea-freighters dock
 1
After Hieronymous Bosch

It begins without your permission: the stench, and your newly grown tail. Under emphysema skies, ravens. Behind you, bees on fire. Venom is on the move. A gargoyle asks a priest what it...
La Vita Nuova

I sabotage my fake dream tonight. Full of help no one wants, writing this during the intermission of my… I feel the pollen deep within me f… Outsinging a hymn from an inner go…
THE PROMISED WATER

This morning our boat nudged anoth… & again the animals expectantly li… * Weather curls over the sea like lu… Children cough more. Family sick…
A DEEP MAP FOR DREAMING, after James Tate

While dreaming, we are all at leas… —Ralph Gibson To control your double while dream… yank the spigot of the clock wide… Swim through the sunken chimney
CLOUDLET and THUNDERLING

CLOUDLET and THUNDERLING cloud mountains parenthesize the west– blended sky. Thunderling
 1
SILVERFISH, an excerpt from an insect bestiary

SILVERFISH One hairy perfume from the venom coma of Morticia Addams’s vulva.
from the Imaginary Chinese translation no. 8

Wind blew roughly through, knocking brass bells from silence. Then placing them back.
from the (imaginary) Chinese no. 6

A gust of three acres stirs a white spark that cracks a door to the lake. Blue in its echo,
UNDROWNFUL

Under thousand-foot raindrops, a memory. Swum thru burnt stone. The undeniability of ice having memory. Water on the brain
Le Mot Vivre

I have found that I cannot sneak up on words— they sense my presence, my hovering, my breath.



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