Why read anything
if you’re not transformed?

Right here. Right now.

Taken right out of yourself
like a floor-lamp
rising behind the chair.

You have become another
for a while, a new face, a new
scream, a soul before
the ages

squeezed somehow
into nouns and verbs,

adjectives with dual heads
that make you weep
or sit amazed.

It is another brand of nature,
godly or earthly at once,

your impossible being
incarnate as if you
were alive.