Smorgasbord of avant-garde jazz

i

A chest for a flattened head

of nesting materials—a corner made

of expanses, a shoulder,

its vested slumbering—

leads to a run-down heightening

from peeling shutters and dreams

with the crusts cut off

ii

flitting wings              for the see-saw of violins

      under streams—twittering

fingers kicking up           light where ankles twist in

harmonic gaps of daymoon twins

iii

Wet harp strings

Wet harp strings

iv

A sleepy asteroid pulls a thread

And the sky unravels its tapestry

Revealing purple gongs that sing

The bluest of blue goodbyes

v

and what is seen

cannot be told

and what is heard

cannot be held

only when breath

spreads its legs

and only then

cannot be known

vi

repetition of suns one one one

no sooner mooned than tuned-up

than refined to one and one and one

and sun and sun and sun orange

made of oranges and of orange segments

vii

Emulsion of Coalescence—Gloss and

Ooze the Dregs of Celestial Plumage—

Puffed up Polish smoked in Water

Stored in the Velvet Shuck of a Chew

viii

Forward cancels backward

(Rhythm) balanced (Balancing)

foot to foot on feet

(Balancing) forward

(Rhythm) backward

On foot to foot on feet

Cassie Fielding is a poet with a kink for the surreal. She is the author of three collections, the latest being Confessions of a Reverist, published by Time Is An Ocean. Her work has appeared in a variety of poetry journals, and she has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.