Nick Wayte


The long lean flank of the Lance
forms the glittering high sierras
of the imagination personally speaking
I think we use another part
of the brain for that he said

Those impassive mountainous spaces
are something into which
the self (itself) might also disappear

From this raised terrace the dusty road away
runs to a vanishing point
the end of visibility: the limits
of speech are close

Don't say a word and
you ain't seen me — right?