Word For/Word: #3
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Brenda Iijima




Rectangular in motorization. A rubbed killing brightness.
Drummer impervious to sound. Corollary chatter,
the percussion retreat-- a stasis. Diffidence yet dissidence,
undecided or indeterminate. A texture sheen. Eyelids
clamp to screen a window pressed-scene.
Molecular orange shields form blooms of floral grandness,
the sun rushes. Polaroid alarming rush, the jugular headlong.
Light perambulates its bounds as a way to promote curiosity.
Skin is pressed tight over the frame slim bone of eye.
Synthetic physical dissolve. Brain wave, an orbit in transition
to ubiquitous wind returns what had eclipsed in question.
A watered gratuitous reflection blown into porcelain, rendition,
portrait. Hideous dancers etched, their limp postures
court individual threads luminous, white and struck directly.
Immobilized skirts and dresses, their lithe forms shrunk
by a cheapening of florescent light. Mallarmé for real.




Daily Life in China

A large conglomeration of people. Marco Polo may be correct
when he declares that , "the city was so safe that the doors
of the houses and shops and stores full of all very dear merchandise
often stayed open at night as by day", but his account is only
valid for the period of the Mongol occupation, when the police
in the city must have been reinforced.

A large conglomeration of people. Merchandise burdened
often by his account is only valid for the period of the Mongol
occupation, when the police in the city must have been the majority.
What to make of it, the imperative needs? Their people. Specious
history alerts these, what are thought of as sound facts bobble.
Chinese checker tablecloth, our time. Fathom this festive land.
Marco Polo implication. The name is Genghis Khan. A Mao yawns





Where a cardinal settles is a dome of magenta.
The chrysanthemums on fire after a rainstorm.
Passion distillation in a sheet of aluminum.
The plane cuts through the suddenness of sky.

Where the tree meets the electric pole on the
street. Endless repetition of circular columns.
The green of this tree is the green of his eyes.
His eyes ricochet from tree to seeing her.

Time absorbs the music. A flare converts the fight.
In the mirror, fervor, in the canyon, lightening.
O excellent creatures wrapped in garments,
strewn are sensations idle not, nor diamond.

Halfway there to one's boldest hope. The back
of a dollar bill. Options: occultation absorbing
into. Autonomous not for passion, not for vision.
The completion of joining the one in love by color.



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