Rubber Venus

slow after held
a stop time
like a slow drink,
like a drink
after a drink

held against rebellion
a kind overturning
standing—leaning
a time at the front of
against distance

where desire travels
simply stated
apart from simplicity
flows take shapes away
involved within fixity, trembling

deep into nothing
an everyday view
a rhythm skips
cups to catch
a dreamy thing

sitting table
boasts a stolid
a stool abstracted
takes six legs
from physicality left

out and down led to out and down
along a gentle curving path,
something else outside the lightest touch
touches off another
fiery vein of resonance

forgotten, forgotten, forgiven
in an end that is a hope
an angry request picks up
with a response yet watching
that long fuse shortens

to lessen—fall over
and to shatter, a break—
a part, totality launched like a
rubber band from venus
the hit soars to the top of charts

a trite left over from
the chorus belted out
around anywere that can be
conceived as circular
"I will not be unindulged"
      —a half speech never delivered