heard insomnia's dream

we the after ham

uffer in our quest's

poison ants can s

peak on t ray of

thought or thought

the tabled sky de

flected in yr quiv

ering pool was

hafted words and

fro thing in the cave

ah tombs relabyrinthine

mouths the ran

dom moth laurel sp

lashed the mirror

yr gaze beginning clouds

became and turned it

off the maze becalmed

was blank “a kind of”

swarm infusion in

the statue shrouded

vines and batshit

…..

enter the sidewalks

were wind and sand

humping a rotten

head next the weeds

the hypos french

fry bags

empty white bottles

Rustling through Ivan Argüelles'

Epilogue to Translation to Heaven