tom taylor & jim leftwich

jim leftwich
HOW


how light imposes is batter
upon the bark, a feeling of positing
an enriched struggle

to come back to anew enough
was more weakness
than we could bear

light nothing would need no
invisible added to itself

absolutely possible, like
throwing a stone for a strike




tom taylor
ARRIVAL

Here night recluses its matter
Inside the woof, a notion of resisting
The emplaced straddle

To return inside renewed position
Is mere darkness
That we can hear

Flight is not that can read us
Disappear in addition to being

Resolutely improbable, astir
Inside the river pounding slack





jim leftwich
FACTS


on what we surpassed
beyond terror and
tender ideas

wound nor heal or else
approach the story
suffering

desire this was to avoid
the strange exactness
of the facts




tom taylor
SACKS

In this non-repast
Inside error the
Fortunate visions

Neither seal nor flood
The suck of history
Meddling

Resistance inside nature
Our ranging sickness
Of the sacks










jim leftwich
HAMPERED


often against dissembled efforts
we don’t think they are real
random cries behind the stories

only slightly there disturbingly
we picture these very needles
in the chair

removed the we and in our
absence suffered the strong
and hampered








tom taylor
BASKET

Here inside resembled effects
They realize insubstantiate
Songs inside their glories

Partly absent within doubt
They tincture their only paddles
In their hair

Absented from here and there
Resistance muffling the long
And the basket






jim leftwich
ENOUGH


withdrawn was almost longing
can waiting speak for itself

myself and oneself
hiding in a secret hiding

so many to assume such
one cannot see it
for the clear appeals

cut tentatively
by intuitive ordeal
that was enough





tom taylor
THE ROUGH

Removed inside desire
This absence abstains now

Our mutuality
Within unspoken truths

Clamoring tides realize
Blind ambition to see
From the mute reveals

Sliced patiently
By specific tensions
Inside the banal rough







jim leftwich
CONCEALED


can one wear forgetfulness
like the depth
of a closed mistake

once alone
on the contrary
is one too many

we resist to believe in parts
our thoughts tempted
to conceal





tom taylor
FLATTENED

One can seer relinquishment
Inside the dark
Of an absent remainder

Here beside
In the country
One is not present

They enable rote plats
Their allowance
To flatness






jim leftwich
THEY AMONG US


reluctant circles didn’t touch us
with time to spare and think
around ourselves so soon
we dwell in reach

sort attention to grasp
the central seemed
safe myself to meet
in certain still

they altogether among us
do violence to the storm





tom taylor
THEM INSIDE WE

Rotating spheres unencountered here
No shine of heal and sink
Inside themselves at noon
They cry out to teach

Assemble notional shafts
The denial weeded
Inside secure appointments
They’re contained shafts
Of cautious silence

We remand union assembled
And wreck the norm






jim leftwich
COMPLICITY


who wouldn’t question
this much in myself
either erased or correct

agitates against us
leaves with a sense
of revealed ignorance

we imagine impulses
unaware of the
terrible much is true

the terrible simplicity
felt during ourselves
do not consent





tom taylor
SILENCE

No unessential words
To our own sums
Neither present nor admitted

Turning within identity
Beside the floating bridge
Of blatant design

They declare emissions
Without any
Witness or passion

The drugged felicity
Rewarded to conscience
Will not revolve



October 2007