Disected, Trimmed, Yes
And plucked, nerve by nerve:
A tensile-shrieking critical mass,
I self-abortive

Which humanly parts? I am
In borning still unborn, a rift
Of earth and sky becoming
I not I, forget forget

The word eludes;
Page on page of scratchings,
Purple drops all! infertile
Outward hatchings

A cataract eye:
My Poet lost, alone to ponder
The blue, half-forgotten temple
Of so spokenly pure