3 Sonnets

1.
He integrates all points on the horizon
expresses a desperate and hyperbolic plane
the truth of my clairvoyance
is stranger than a tip on a horse
a cantering lecturer
And why? She's a real chestnut of a professor
I physics with his headphones
gulps & gallops      maybe proposition the school at Athens
   the chain of names rings the circle game
So who are my brethren     well imagine!     an encounter
square fat and beautiful and named for my lovers
Ranvier's rose and far    his comprehension as the sea
killed through passion, covered with pitch
swans which no tongue could describe      and coppices

2.
My naked moonshell     a consensual metaphor
Ouvrez la fenêtre      "the death occured"
Echoes on radio live national and frequent
I imagine my audience naked, intelligent
masked, cooking      His fingers evangelical flutter
traced terrible suffering, but still there is power
"a supreme conjunction with probability"
our breath's inheritance
is a buoyant clairvoyant
her neon hysteria    bought the bazaar    "only
     a constellation is happening"
mustachio'd planetoid gapes     the world, soul in belly
orgasms each day, and flatulently     still the same question
who are my brethren     my sister circles another star

3.
Iron lungs and plastic bags litter the bed of the sea
but her loveliness lies distant and verily
to make you come by blinking
as a butterfly     corollary:    a cold-flash kill-off in Acapulco
where "the forms of nun-like females glide"
I hid into the white endorphins
brain flowers jet over Syria
my old lady says so: "Often there must be children"
cypress bowers shading his frank sensitivity
preserved the body in honey
     unblemished teenaged and thrown down a well
wouldn't shit on the Sabbath in freedom as in hell
carried out my degrees     blasted by sand
wheat or love    what hangs chapped    in a weird wind