THAT MEMORY

That memory
is not invisible
but spills out
in the spinning words
that traffic
in LANGUAGE POETRY
what languishes
in blank verse
and advantages us
in an evaporating voice
from the narcotic silence
in a panic of perpetual motion
when opening up our
our survival taps
of sprawling movements
from our fragmentary adverbs
uncovering a voluminous
array of contrary forms
drawing out our ten second
thoughts that branch out
like Autumnal falling leaves.