Lightly as the Darkness Fits

by Vernon Frazer and Michelle Greenblatt


inlet on the mountain submarine timidity as lightly as the darkness

fits into a shelf in my brain, so is the shelved

                                                               clangorous dust that makes

its way into the cracks in my eyes a wavering

dusk bold as the splintered platform, a husk

                                                                of its former cognition

bleeding wheat

the color of sky.


Autonomic sunsets weave beige lagoon reflections,

                        an arid frigidity numbing the cleaving portico hedge

                        as it leaves

                                                pasteurized colors in the mix

                                                of slavering admirers, gone


the way of the stratagem index. A tentacle pursued, its rubber pace

a danger


to all fully automatic weapons. I dive

into deafness as the subatomic harmonies break

up heaven into little chinks of starlight. Perfect propriety, a cracked bell,

shuddering of sleep releases the bride from the corpse.


            A marriage, once removed , can whisk away

            conundrum's bottled ashes, a weeping urn

            containing dust

                                    of cartilage turned

                                                                separation anxiety


in the shade of a sweltering hammock, sweat beads galore