mark lamoureux





Habitat of obdurate melancholy,

the center lands of


minute consequence, rank

phenomenology begets



a sheaf.


A matter of elephantine

significance lumbers


through the flax, its huge

knees, tedious effluvium:


the egg-timer of the sky

ripostes: purple flashes


in the middle places,

invigored motes goad


the flapping field:

the rocks are alive


Do you hear me?


the rocks are alive.