278. 3 Airports

at Midway

la lune
l’un
le soleil gris

muffling grey
sounds of people in slovenly life
humbled mumbling voices
the bright lights in strips only if we look at them
crumble thought

lorsqu’un
le passetout
tout le monde (sans journal)

entreaties and detestamonials
suddenly narcolepsy
bibbed drooling but rare
seated and sated
the longest eyeful passes over the room

un soupçon du caleçon
frigide et rigide
mon oncle de Donc

the sounds in the airport irradiate
everything leads us away
terrors are small but significant
on the border of being and been
we are but reflections of absent beings

allô!
tu m’entends?
je ne m’entend pas
l’empreinte de mots

at BWI

la nuit
leur lumière
le rève du lit

a vouvray resting sweetly
voices as the sound of voices
music runs through it
deathless plastic jungle
plastic knife

l’homme qui
le mariage que
le voix époque

enough quiet to hear a voice
taste of pear and slate
horns backed by high-hats
windows darkened into mirrors
everyone also walks outside

une camisol bleue
des yeux et voici
l’altération du temps

announcing the changing of times
grumble of invisible planes climbing
olives and mixed greens
with a little olive oil and goat cheese
the palate darkens

le jazz
mon oncle
le son

at Albany International

la nuit de la nuit
les virgules de lumière
les pieds les pieds

lines toward leaving
the quiet of evening
as if there were a way to sleep
certain tentacles of thought
reaching without arriving

mes mains
un souffle des yeux
les neiges d’aujourd’hui