If red
stirred in a lake
the fish would be encased in
glass
if the edge of a pond held a shadow
then the ripples reveal wishes
or prejudices.
If the
last Sunday comes before
you expect it
then wax could sing like light
& my
eyes coud hear like ears.
If
this were a Japanese garden
where the mountain lets off
steam & imperils the smallest
of the
tribe.
If sunset
is obscured
by thunderclouds
then sounds would all turn silk.
If these
hues were inside of you
the disc would seem like an
orange made of water.
If the dimensions fail to
correspond, or the color bleeds red
then angels would sing.
If gold
decayed into black
the world is a city of water.
If this had been criminal
then red is
a premonition
of the forest behind you
about to burst into
one
last autumn.
A Language Event.
John Olson
Roberta Olson
& Paul Nelson
5:39PM – 9.13.05