from Hariot Double



Deccalian

                     A still box
                     with ribbed front            

         smooth steel arm
         over sprung table                 

               click, gentle buzz

         pull to the right and start

               drop, crackle,
               furrow to centre

         vertigo runes

               then deft dial
               through field

                    echoes
                          of bird
                    in flight





Buried Scent

              Climb through each box
       to discover a word

                          let somebody carry you
                                  in darkness
                                        folded

                  in, on, round
                  over
                  between

       lines

a red fingernail at the fourth corner

                  with slithery question

                                ladder
                                or
                                parabola

                                         to sky slide

                  of slow-swinging bell

       a different number
       to trace and reverse





Street Turn

Lights like tiger eyes
                                       letter loops
                                       dipping, rearing
is this a square
                                       for the play of doom
claw at hat
and pinstripe
                                       who in delirium
might have
cape and sword
                                       on a diamond roof
                                       upside down
tessitura-hunt
                                       by plot
                                       of an old theatre
stars that string
                                       threads
                                       across wall
to a hidden rose
                                       whose musk
brings
from death-cup
                                       a spirit
to embrace
                                       the thing
                                       you dodge
migrant angel
                                       split
between
glitter                            and dusk





Portal

Every true jazz fan is born within the sound of
Do Bells

Trawl through the racks, every week
another great record
like a rocket ship from Venus

              black halo,
              driving needle

syntax to glance off—tropes mosaic
as you'd follow a clue of thread
in after hours

twitch of silk down deep cleft
to blink of revelation

              dead-spin from over-zone
              maybe a glide-line

              which can what can
              clear it, crinkled electric

so the dug root, out-slavish
will translate
for lured browsers

              oo's to say this isn't

a train of tomatoes     jumping in a rumble
under tunnel crown

now by godwink     coax the aura back
to not guess     or foreclose


       Gavin Selerie 2015