From a forest
of standing orders, Western Larch and Douglas fir, violated by
Italian beechwood bolts drawn from Leonardo's
pen and Howe's adjustable truss
entering a dream of tall structures felled by the mathematics
of skeletal design within the radius of hemorrhaging signs—
X
marks the spot
where wings were
pinned to history's
cruel door.
A bridge
on which the Beasts of Voltage step up their myths of ancient
wizardry, ionizing covenants, railroads the Buddha of Present
Events.
