I believe in
I believe in
I have lived one thousand deaths hauled from
though the jaws of hate
(there was a you there standing
standing wearing personhood like a cloak)
inertia is a thing
the first personal pronoun is owned by
the first personal pronoun falls through cavernous space
swing
swim
sing through
exalt for
four time decays luminescent in the slipstream of fingers
fingers luminesce
imma burn
imma burn
imma burn
burn triumphant
in excelsis
fire
space
fire
are you ready to go now?
the thousand sunshines of love
immolating terrible
toward every monadic site ever addressed as “you”
light of
off star fall
off
death edge interger
in tall trial
it behooves introspection
it behaves as [blinding flash]
[animal silence]
[the manipulation of time]
a world
a tear
is there such a thing as more
I.
N O V A
R O S E
A R O S E
N O V A E
II. circumradiant omnistellar Macrocosmic infintesimal singular ‘I’
III. An Ark for those who passed through Here
IV.
the
yoke
of
the
world
the
yoke
of
the
word
V. small ride on small air cavern whisper clarion of Charon
VI. Green leaf Grief
No worst Word no final -ilty no know -ing No -thing. No. ___ No name, no naming, no Gelobt-seist-du, no I am. No. ___ No no. ___ And still the day dies again still the sun so gold so vermillion
The O in no
Man
O tree
O sun-
beam
give till
& toil
way
& bramble
breast
vine & bough
world woe-fruited
break
in word
s, cold
caesura dark in dawn
gold arc & pinion
orb for
ever
in line
hundred-honeyed
suns &
bleed silver
︱ hoop hove
out
o’er
hour
&
pour , our use
still weightless
& unwaited
&
no
thing
stirs
brief burial
sky ;
still lip
& moon loom
an empty bell
torn, starless, shod
birdborn
circum-
Flex
counter-
Nance
fur furl
gold pinion & hoof
shod bright,
all seen as seam,
&
river,
arch,
door,
wave,
hill
Ross Brighton is a poet and critic based in Auckland, New Zealand.