Out of a thousand painted threads,
Agnes, you warp a frame
for some belle dame
of sanded mercy. Mounds of pebble-
heads, broken by force... the list
of useless tears... unspoken
outrage in the caravan...
the camel’s otfe-hump (if you insist).
Henrigold the river-god
bobbers oiled Jordan
with Lorelei (raison
d’étoile – mosaic mermaid).
It was the frame, Agnes, it was
the bloom, encircling
a gold bee-sting –
it was the Viennese princess
who rose from copper strands of wire –
who lifted bottlecaps,
into a mossy petroglyphic spire.
O spider-thread of nothingness
O Hamlet’s hesitation
Guillaume Bier creation
bobbing like a robin’s nest
around an Okie stump (of Manitou)
twin-man twine sister-span
Miriam a song in C major (for you)