so, Ecstasy

September 13, 2018   •   By Roger Reeves

This piece appears in the LARB Print Quarterly Journal: No. 19, Romance

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so, Ecstasy

And after LOVE had wept and eaten
The burning heart, my burning
Heart, and LOVE our Lord, Lord, Lord
So awakened but not in horror but, yes, berserk, so:

Human, so wanted beyond, so: ECSTASY,
So: not human but ALL as in without ORDER,
So wept, made into the vessel that which must be made,
Confronted: so less life and more,

So ECSTASY, finally legible, without the formal
DRAG of the body, leaf upon leaf in the morning
Street, so past desire as a tree just beyond a wooden fence,

Invisible, in its possession and slow convulsions,
Hemorrhaging between night and the memory
Of waking as the wind, the night, the bleeding stars
Which is how I awaken in you, as you. Inside. Out. Begun.





Which has no memory, ECSTASY, beginning
In the middle, always late but slightly on time,
The way I enter you, which is an asking,
Berserk as any nag beauty so LOVE

Without the chaste harnesses of redemption, Us:
Somewhere after, tossed, like money fleeced of its money,
Grip, so wild and without use, so useful because without
Expectation, so without error, so desire moving backward,

Beyond opinion or the pinions of the body — so ECSTASY,
My mouth staggering to close upon your nipple —
Tree dwindling down to its birth-seed, PROGRESS:

Finally, a music made without progress or the hint
Of ascension, which is how ascension is reached:
Rain banally falling into a field
Unaware a whole forest of elms rising from it in three days.