AT VLADIVOSTOK
One might say mathematics is a matter
of cascading functions,
with parenthetical canyons
in canyons (as at Vladivostok, or the Matter-
horn). Rivers flow this way,
then that way, back,
forth, clattering
from Hackensack to Housatonic (May-
November). So the game of numbers
is a mode of streambed too –
your Itasca-sprung Rio
del Espiritu (time-numbing mine of hours)
whose ceaseless surge bends past the prong
of Louie’s Gateway Arch
that budgeth not (March
to September), stills the monotone like a gong
of bronze. Thus Mrs. Slippery, crowned,
extends her clayborne banks
beyond New Orleans... her phalanx
of ‘gators flanks her onward, azure-bound;
so the analogy of brazen serpent
lures this goldfinch dream
into Leviathan trireme
wreathing America in mist, unspent –
as when a dervish Morning Star
raveled Guillaume into her web
grappling Jonah (fledgling pleb)
into the shimmer-seine of River R.
12.27.19
Osip Mandelstam's final i.d. card (internal emigre)
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