A Selection of Poems from *Darien* Bob Harrison *Chords Wrapped Tight to the Ground* keeping your lock within a fold these long, high trails wait for us in two held temperatures (with small circles behind them) when the feather I found is colored black & red then the path it is on is beside us within the color of light I reach into the still trouble wishing chords were wrapped everywhere & the sun was held down *Who Wrote* whole cities daybreak in a red stone across the walk fit wool to their escape in the mountains a few held off the paws of a program in two the pieces pointed out to sleepy inches washing the last signature in even one more assent to the half where wheels grow dark hunted where the blood catapults a wet face the red light on the top *Four Propositions for the Impalement of False Shirts* what if they were yours for sale all dead & buried with memories of narled roots slobbering on our slippery backs what if the lemons soured our eyes & our fingers refused to feed us marking the earth with hatred what if the burn that every word names turned on itself & washed away the dead rooms without air what if flashes filled my hellos and telling short, unspeakable stories I made a run for the door with the desert & the animal kingdom cutting water in my head *Rapid Screen* this word lines the inner side of empty speed walls blanket their mote into simple sand back through the torch your mouth has weakened rest you will have birds to soothe you no more than a heavy hammer has it in the wing pick where the crust is down below start matters on factor & rip her heat dissolves dissolves what young amber has it queued to curling foam no more than a heavy hammer has it in the wing their light has real equations through one more hope etch they think it is the number fit to reveal any-ness to each *Fought With the Best Fonts* long letters they found secretly blossoming to reveal a back breaking starlit mound of evergreens shoot shoot nine times out of ten there is another doorway to unfinish & still digging the backyard hole *Pocket Marks* once each arrow others noone back I'll will unnoticed speaking tables someone sets the corner leg each habit dying every sun reporting what you have for either one of these this settlement accuses one of ditching somewhere in between the harvest and the heart in-setting what might be beyond the other side of looking each dim wincing what you're running wants to hear in step with two moving a stone unbound to what my chair by either planet steps before *Red Written Read Black* what then has as its only name itself the boundary of unlimited sketching writes in red & reads in black if I live in the country that has as its only name itself if I color so that lines retain their emptiness what flowers will live off my flesh? ------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright (C) 1995 by Robert A. Harrison.