For and after Vivian Springford, from a manuscript in progress.

frameshield forward bloom of a cosmic stain, up on
the sun’s old weird edge of expansion, to dispense
with the bad news incubus service, Whalen calligraphy
tipsy at the Capital with Harry Smith film stills at off-
centers for imploded suckers phasing out of practice
with attention, shapes dispersed from a composed owl
that ain’t ever gonna think “I’m an owl,” cross-checking
credibility’s what nothing with flooding & frequent
lightning, original hatch buckles, portal to nebulae, im-
probably red lava beads…