Synecdoche
Picasso’s
a lie that helps us see truth.
His
audience permits desired impact,
sensibilities
convey pauperization of Mexico.
Bare
feet rustle the water jar,
surprising
image moves by quality intended.
Carefully
chosen parts imply by analogy
transmit
subject directly.
Synecdoche
less than science, essence of art.
Single
stem with twin flowers, Mexico,
dos flores gemelas, vida y muerta,
truth
more secure, las aguas del bautismo.
Visions
of unity easily proved wrong,
practical
advice a resolution not offered.
Petrified
field a fountain!
Dust
of tall trees’ rustling bark!
Taste
of such splendor, sound of panting!
A
cold volcano, bare hills of stone!
How Little the Power, Emily
How
little the power, Emily, over ourselves,
the
size of our lives, the tangled stars
that
incline our futures towards this or that
end
point?
How
far the page’s edge, how soon
the
corner’s narrow end?
Stars, Trekking
Stars,
trekking across the table,
urging
on in every direction,
fixed
in a single starting place,
suggest
the many possibilities before us,
laughing,
while they stay safely
at
home.
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