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Keith Baughman
Notes:
"The
poems are nothing more than a quick and aesthetic shorthand
of a specific moment in a particular state of mind. They
simply record the focal point of the imagination at the
time of writing in the guise of Pound's prompts onward.
Somehow, the poems get started, and, without too much interference
from me, they are finished. It's not exactly like rolling
a handful of dice."
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A Sense
of Rhythms
the peony from
the point of view of the ant in the colony of ants
the dream of
the peony circulating in the colony of ants
a system that
is not a system, function outside of the function
April into
June on a cascade of continuous rain
the scalloped
face of the peony head is swollen on its thin stalk
the rain blackens
the ants that this year are jet black
the dream of
the ants must also be deeper and more lush
each ant beckoned
and seduced by the heavy drooping peony.
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Addition Subtraction
in and around the mind shadows gather as if
the enemy was light the shadows dance
not in a circle
as you might expect but in flocks
so that wherever the mind looks darkness flutters
opaque wings
so that gradually as you might hope
the mind finds comfort in its dusky shutters finds
the myopia
of self more expansive than the promised
landscapes of the brain it is rooted to the mathematics
of the relationship
is incomprehensible that mind
is a ratio of brain as shadow is a correlation of light
and something
else
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Other Scales
there is always the suspicion that we
don't ever fully reveal ourselves there
is always the question of what
we
reveal to ourselves and
there are
mirrors sometimes all around
like
moonlight cutting into a dark wood the
questions remain incorrigible callused
as answers often lose importance allure
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