Keimer in Barbados

i

stool
predestined
              horizontal / vertical                             man & man


ii

think of it as | something like
a gauze, or, in 3 dimensions,
a stiffened sponge

              1)            the fine grain, the quarky
                             waves in waves, jarring against
                             waves                 oily & panegyric
                                           these    lotusbloem

              2)           passed through smoke
                             smoke as an erasure
                             erasure as spiral swirl of Keimer

                             with flecked red devils
                             sparks

              3)           soap

We are the fallen,
about the hot sand
the drying suds


iii

Keimer
back to / back towards
                             America


iv

Keimer’s eyes like ‘a pig poison’d’
in a
                             cloak
the lines of its folds
with their action straight down
(their action upon one another
refolding and deleting),
coaxial waves.

Keimer, befuddled at this introduction
then finished, impoverished
in Barbados
                             still in his cloak,
a journeyman slaveholder,
those cloak waves now horizontal wave as
waves comma.
Wrote straight into composing stick
fuck the stove
                             I
              the sweat the sand & blood
                             on Barbados
                                           I am Keimer
creek    moose