Marcella Durand: Three poems

  Marcella Durand

  Three poems

  tilleul / Geometrical devices 5 / foreground is trees

the scent hides outcrop of gray and among those atoms upright green a shock of

again green folded among movements of petrification and grayness and what lies

under is never hidden sumptuous brown that holds all above it humus that more

it crumbles more it generates, generative substance once dry drifts off seeking current but even still lies still tubes and ropes vines what resists drought or trampling, ownership, salesmanship, friable and depthless, meets the cruxes

where four creates fifth and is why five is the heart number and number

of seed and where unevenness creates able to action four points to five each point

points to fifth and like heart central and grows dispersed after initial concentration

all seeds are fifths and why flowers are sixth and bees like flowers accrete in six and sides are perfect together and six multiplies to perfect hive hectagon

six wax sides and bonded by nebulous humectant kiss saliva food six must be bonded by powder and kisses in wax and why the seven pesticides must be shrouded by the eight elements twice four eight is complete and takes the extra one left by pesticide and nematode-killer, seventh fungicide and accumulation, mite

eraser the eight insect legs erased by grasping molecule rings of seven seeking one

and the standard of nine rows cut in nine sides green rectangles glint among sand the line where irrigation ends or curve of circle or half circle nine is for irrigation tunnels shaping the ten spreads of desert dunes are in tenths and sand is multiplied to almost infinity by ten although there must be one last grain of sand if by ten one is led up to counting; meanwhile the spread of soil by rain wind and fallow if rotation stalls and green appears among sand or gold, brown, one upright stem.

  Geometrical devices 5

To the left: identifies two saints being decapitated as XX and XY. Could be

otherwise a kinder outcome, more strategic. No man was ever more foliate.

And no woman less like weed. Is by a later hand. Certain length up the wall,

for a closer inspection, an interaction, like light slants along cuts in cardboard

and buds to patterns of sun already bleaching the gray to whiter. So does

cardboard disintegrate, fragile medium already sliced, thinner than construction

and what protects is itself falling apart: vulnerable to dust it becomes such.


The perpetual motion machine is not interesting visually: crass and swinging

or mechanical in a way that hammers bang at evenly sequenced intervals and

quicksilver runs along networks to coagulate at neuron point: both ball and line

are tuned to frequency and temperature, tonight it falls and even more to pit

or well. Wheel dips deep into earth and floodlights for walls comprised of

fossil depth, each layer a leaf a telling an embedding a tale. A glint a mirror a

song a backward a reflection a focus a prediction a prism a secret ahead.

  foreground is trees
So little light tonight, the moon is new again and the sun
tomorrow will be blurred behind weather changing
to large and heavy vortex stirring currents of cold
waters that sink and displace latitudes
of former direction. What so little light there
is today or tonight, and it involves air in masses, how
us so tiny relate to what so large, our slow bald smallness,
our walking and holding things, how we work with
and relate to one other, how we collaborate,
how we form community and our community
versus other communities, always busy toward creating
community, does all this work point to such
gigantic direction, does to such extinction:
all this work together just for insects
who chew over trees to mountain and toward river,
ocean, the warm chemical waters swirling with plastic.
upon this we leave, using words as propulsion.
Again I do not see what is contradictory.
The quiz has me. Each question a maze.
US poet Marcella Durand
US poet Marcella Durand

Marcella Durand is the author of Deep Eco Pré (with Tina Darragh), AREA, Traffic & Weather and Western Capital Rhapsodies. She is currently working on a collection of poems titled The World Is Composed of Continuous Objects with Various Shapes that Can Obscure One Another, and a book-length alexandrine titled In this world previous to ours.

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