The Brooklyn Rail

Trans-confetti, trans-dazzlement, end of day.
He’s amazed by constellations of dots as conduits.
Bilateral symmetry, troweling, spraying, framing
           As a total necessity.

Lit-up artificiality, colossal artery of
           Gestures. Eternal elation.

Trans-punctuation as language. Bright voids.
Toddling between pairs of opposites,
           Let’s call it end of day.

Closeness, openness as endless oscillations.
Freeing off tyranny of lines, true, less true.

           Ecstatic being ecstatic.
           Petal, sound, speed, texture of affection.

Trans-poetic remediation, dark intervals,
He’s recalibrating his time, life, end of day.