nathaniel mackey
       

come from some of everywhere, somewhere so deep that some of
everywhere come with you. to become, for our occult belongings,

worldly in that other way, garnet burned in sand and long green shade

belonging in our garden. our feeling for the game is secret. harriott


is our conductor and our unfinished readiness for the world, occult and

separate mixture. that long revealed weave is come undone as our

unfinished readiness, the messed up plan of someone else's dance,
the celibate screen been a open window. you move the whole question
from room to room, echo chamber, our always ready unofficial word.

Copyright © 2009 Fred Moten All rights reserved
from B Jenkins
Duke University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission