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Jacket 21 — February 2003   |   # 21  Contents   |   Homepage   |  Catalog   |

Patrick F. Durgin

Four poems

Gossamer Rip-thru (as Spelt)

[after Joan Retallack’s ‘Lost Brief Case Conjecture’]

you do the moral fiber in the gum
the tonic’s hot — the coliseum

of praise — encumbrance upon
chance in perpetuity introduction

dreamsicle lapse & purge
optimistic left overs as ever merge

on that count less rapprochement
the left are sent

packing & leave for, as they say:
I think anyway

that’s the thrust of it, ‘side-
splitting laughs’ someone else said

that and I want to mention it
was offered ‘frita bread’

what’s whole anyhow ain’t
contiguous bent

over the best advices and
kneading a plot of land

legions of realists, bent
genitives the pen-

ultimate charm of naiveté
put you in a list — I think anyway

that’s the thrust of it
here’s my signature it’s

a match — that’s no sham
it’s who I am

a match — give up your sky
who ought to ought to try

this blue signature this tit
that tat for ‘side-split-

ting laughs’ all over the place
bordering as being in that trace


as spelt immaculate
gossamer template

‘kill ’em all’ someone else
said that and I wanted less

to shame than to thrash — being absent
myself — wondering in that argument

little wonder then that — being that
chance wasabi sunset bit

for what else — terminal ATM
someone said ‘kill ’em

all’ over the place — it’s a
match — I am my signa-

ture as spelt — immaculate
rip-thru instance — my pet

chants and fumble entraps
a dream as being that lapse

poems from Relay


An appraisal and land-rush
you choose dreams but others oblige them
interference never happens
the distraction is property
emphasis propriety
it belongs to you it’s


No hearts were
broken only

that was their eternity
in truth and appearances
vindicate the real

so says the etc.
free apposition


Was nostalgia now a lacquer
mind never once changes
there is only true, never false,

what we call the vicissitudes
is inaudible applause
mind never once changes

is conjectural or
it all is this
is not a bind


During then the
or slithering
through the valley of
our fanatic conjectural

a decisive pit of stones
heard frowning over
an eternity hitherto
unheard of

what presitge embalms
and frosts
no lesson for once

Jacket 21 — February 2003  Contents page
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