I have seen a tunnel before
of ashes that opens itself
seen its abyss
of golden-gold light
heart throbbing I
have taken the first
step into the tunnel
then the light enclosed me
and I cowered
a beachcomber in the pale yellow tread wheel under-furrowed
filled with flowing wounds that hung like fog sateless sorrow
the knocking revolved
in on itself and away
then the pattern in my eyelid’s
ardent blood left me
but with a step in
there is always a way
back and I went back
adorned with the rest
of the light in my hair
pus now I will go on
howl through the tunnel
and no further
simply consider the
still sulking
pattern but down
in the black figures and in
all there is found paths in the fine woven fabric Everything is found
in the current of half sleep that now turns so the blocks protrude like weights and dream
in all directions I drift and I pass again
through the diagram’s corridor a child that sings itself to sleep
man
bicycle house
tree swan ship
car tent house bicycle I
can no more
before I vanish
I will come to see
that there is darkness
at the end of the tunnel
now there is no way back I may go backwards back over-
now I may search the dark if I buoyed by my heavy tongue
will be found again and see it all