Mickey O'Connor
Double Time
for Tom Raworth
On the terrace sits
a boot, a tooth
over my deadbolt in
if it is
the pleasure of passion,
in this,
with it and
with the next alone.
I trade undone without
having come & gone.
Expect the harm
to undo the undone,
the colds are colder than
anybody's everywhere rain.
My bed if unheated
can lose heat,
be unheated.
It wheezes to fake a drift
to stake a claim,
can, did persist a little,
they are not bought.
II.
Lift, give in, adore,
bon mots, many treats adore
more treats.
Give sight then,
cheering against trees
against gems,
against church,
against seas,
Jive hitch
bent dream
spazz gulch
myth dove.
III.
Myth tears
filch drink.
Try fittingest blue,
hot wary touch,
fix shout
sat there,
bereft there.
There a spy stood
like wheat
and tarry early wind
that leaves sad giggles,
traces that make haste.
Lick where sent astray
send fair loved one
spin to say snare there.
Hid a lot
what gives
always bare
with love,
and after all
when I was born
lie and luck
stood on the brink.
How stay with me
drink & come, come
that they hold with pride
and gleam
live as it small does give
what lives does give
to give even so
not delight in waving sad,
he moans to tell.
Spare there
a dribble outside,
gems there, litter,
melody is wide,
fare thee well my tribe.
IV.
Why swallow
and wish to do?
Ears send harmonicas.
begin this
can try,
have none.
not want,
pleasure be.
They kiss
you botch
a token word.
You cool
sat hitched
to a book.
I hoped to lesson,
fell anew a measure,
to be a liar who
does not tire
of stealing fire.
In trouble
say still leave,
halves it took,
then it goes.
The found gone is on,
is the brick,
was turned on,
around, better found.
Ad against the grain
it with not
it at all.
And if in dealing the cards,
whit will be tossed inside,
and if will not, will be,
will be unless, unless the not
is placed
to say.
Outside is not inside
no matter what
is said
until a taste, a grapefruit
bit juice,
when over is on is
flood my own blood to me.
V.
Severed things test a call
poor truths hitch to poor teeth.
I try half a ditch,
which is too much.
Ditch covers sin homes,
kin tore hands' host.
Trust spy sneezes,
win difficulty,
the worry is deft.
Be seen, how what
not a fall,
can laughter hitch again?
It would be waning
which it sang it might,
and brittle sings two weeds,
a brittle bore then call.
How will the word sing
when it remains unsaid?
Stare at the confluence
deny, bet, swell.
Stand clearly, fell
and then fear is as such
where there, fear is no more
the song along the door.
Copyright © 1996 Mickey O'Connor
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