Fille de Rhizome
by Anne Waldman
Fille de Rhizome
for No Land, her poet–photo Eye
trauma
like
porcelain
b r e a k s
parched lips
not part of this world. yet
but the outside turning its heels
drawing down the moon
gone to mobility
catastrophic mise en scene
we met at protest, in protest, above it
and downcast the newscaster
never looks, really “up”
in media res, caught in the act:
(but chatty) none the less
we started or plot to save the world
all epics of love and incantation
flow in with tide
roar. the cinematrix elicits a motion forward
will arrive with alphabets for clouds
catching the
Elusian
won’t stop
the parable won’t
stop photographing
(no aphasia will interfere with the photo)
her word store’s sanctuary
for the daughter, my arm in yours
she can get cops
she can take the fallen
she can be in love
with the fragment
She can catch the children
and of a delicate wrist, its bands
Catch your heart — of No Land, hand
of all land
blessed by the Sorcerer of Birds