masses: time

painting by marlene vine (, poem by roy herndon smith


“now you must lose the eye”
… like a cormorant dividing
and entering
…the serenity of a great sea
—ishida baigan

what if, in the “end”
which, a lying poet wrote
is the “beginning”

“there is no there there”
the heaven beyond the rip
in the fabric or

the capital I
is just another curtain
like the shimmering

wave i, thrumming
dive into just before it
crashes on the shore?