The San Rafael Swell

Moment alone, he devours in distraction.
Time thus consumed
he trusses the bones in burlap, cordage,
and drags out the rim of a silent canyon.
A thick fiber tears. Cinches to their hitches weld.
Moment alone, he is perversely marrying.
Craning towards a view
of the place silence is emanating:
a disk set in a plain. A twice failed corner.
A talus of orange tetris. Or the sifted dust
of dried eons, its unexumed galleries,
clutches of pregnant mounds.
Moment alone, he is deliberately embalming.

If he describes his silent canyon
through each splintering arm, diverted channel,
each choice within a choice,
without ever settling on a center
then the shadows will not be closed
but settle deeper. Moment alone,
in full denial, he is worshipping.

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