Ocean Audience (3)

Robert Lietz

     Chip-speeds treble in a breath.   And the rain
blows prompts       -- where rain's
been more than satisfactory       -- pounding at the shops
and easing a little now --
veiling the P'town Light in hermeneutic transience.
Supposing what's said and what's possessed
/ supposing the weight of stars       -- influenced by stars --
the sky's blue shimmerings --
and now the news along the fish-ladder       / the news
in windfall       / wind-woven circumstance
/ in this spawning seen       -- as through a sky-wide pane --
in the grey and give / go
patternings and art songs       / the slogans and brands
sandblasted off the floating surfaces.
Here were these words       like canopies to come in under
and be known       -- words
in the Vinyard's greens       / the stars over Hyannis --
aspiring to more than capable       / aspiring
to more than ginger       and       to fish -based recipes --
to this ocean audience       -- light       gasping
in the walls       -- where they were going someplace
once       -- through the stuccoed       / lost      
and modular amusements       / reconstructed      
smugglings       -- the reconstructed
shades         and       man-sized occupations --
in local speeds       --   configured
in these scratched lines
and       hip-shot

     You could play that alphabet and still not catch the names.
But what's the mystery?    And       what's
the story now       -- the personal mint grown tall
/ the Bon Air ruined       -- lost
as her sympathy for socks         that never seemed right
for the trousers?   But what's the story now       --
the grimace say       / or recognition in her winking?   
Insomnias         traced       through tans
and greens       / in homes       supported over water --
implying we only half-belong       / we're      
only half-sway shown      among the conduits      
and credits       -- fat kids moshing      
/ passing flesh       --peddling      
the       predetermined
stone       in casual

     What was that mystery after all       -- coaxing
these ghosts in time       -- ready
for beds and breasts and bedtimes with an interest --
and wearing their hats one way --      
their pants down on their heels       -- their       urges
deepening       -- having gone through minds
across the green edge of equation       -- coveting
the signs       to be exact       -- the minds
and fruits       the old men sipped       on their verandas?   
Think how the novels tantalized      
/ how the poems obsessed the ocean audience --
as moved       ( let's say )      
as paper hearts and prospering       -- how that large Ford
must have filled
the panel of the rearview       -- coming
through rain and fog       --
taking on itself       the looks       of some days
in the country       -- conceived
conditionally       -- compositionally
and quick       -- here
in the mega-mystery       / in the spans      
and       trumpets
and guitar chords commenting,
in the acidities
and plastics      / no matter
what       they'd

Robert Lietz has a lot of publications. If you google him, you'll find many of them.