Fille de Rhizome

by Anne Waldman

Fille de Rhizome
     for No Land, her poet–photo Eye

trauma
like
porcelain

b r e a k s

parched lips
not part of this world.  yet
but the outside turning its heels

drawing down the moon

gone to mobility
catastrophic mise en scene

we met at protest, in protest,   above it

and downcast the newscaster

never looks,   really “up”

in media res, caught in the act:

(but chatty)   none the less

we started or plot to save the world
all epics of love and incantation
flow in with tide
roar.     the cinematrix elicits a motion forward

will arrive with alphabets for clouds
catching the
Elusian
won’t stop
the parable won’t
stop photographing

(no aphasia will interfere with the photo)
her word store’s sanctuary
for the daughter, my arm in yours

she can get cops
she can take the fallen
she can be in love
with the fragment

She can catch the children
and of a delicate wrist, its bands

Catch your heart — of No Land, hand

of all land

blessed by the Sorcerer of Birds