XXI. Le Monde

Glasshouses add not only elements of dissipation, but the scrubbed zones
Form a luminous separation of once-potted plants, and their ashes thrown
On the lawn—To one oppressed by cares; these, a botanist’s leavings

The lens scuttles and torments into shapes—A tetravalent door, or voltage-gated
Potassium channel bars the entrance to the jungle. Henri Rousseau labored
To abolish these glimpses through doorways, where tree lines run into giclée

Prints. Where The Hungry Lion Throws Itself on the Antelope (1905) is dormitory giclée,
The girl, having formed a similar estimate of herself, now sprays these zones
With a defoliant decided by accidents at birth. How her furtive animal labored
In a bower of unheard loeries, where leaves, like barbs, lie down; the manikin is thrown
Together with a lion’s gibbous smile—All these discrete piston-strokes, voltage-gated

Potassium channels of a mind and heart disallowed their full fury, with few leavings

Fixed to them. Sign painter and poster girl—Facing the stars, lion, gypsy leavings,
Lie awake for the ceiling’s occasional sweep of headlights revealing inward giclée
That arrives travel-stained. Potassium resets the nerve for the next activity; voltage-gated

Channels time the wing-flapping, and signal us to dispose on erogenous zones

Critical electrolytes. Remaining only too eager to harness ourselves again; thrown
For a loss, the hand falls limply. As if the body was as much to blame as it labored—

Rousseau concealed an entity within his saplings. There, a marsh oak, of belabored

Park scenes, intimately brushes the antelope’s split haunch. Among the leavings

For the circling scavengers, donning a hairshirt and gimlet eye, the thrown
And twisted character persists in evaluation more than its capable of giving. Giclée
Prints of it confer some native melancholy. Foliage mingling on a fetlock, in a zone
Of unspecified tropics, moves me like potassium in the blood, or a voltage-gated

Security alarm interrupting the tedium of check-in, in which case voltage-gated

Channels fail at blood swilling—Small serum fluctuations, in spite of the cell’s belabored
Rectification, correspond to large changes in the potassium reservoir. This inner zone
Of live water is sometimes too replete with dew, and the uncouth shake the leavings

Into the fire. Shy of the leaves most likely varnished with its urine and the giclée

Of sweat, the crow-creature stands awaiting the next occupant. Jagged nerves, thrown

Out of a physiologist’s schematic, flash the intersecting realities—Tears thrown
From the antelope’s eyelid mock our frailties. Somewhere, a voltage-gated

Channel depolarizes for the last time. The original’s slick of rain is like the giclée
On high-gloss, archival paper guaranteed one hundred years. Their creator labored

With an attitude denounced from the pulpits, a downed antelope and the leavings—

Incontrovertible as the pulse ticking within your own body—Not that your humid zones

Captivate the sinuous reptile. Pauses are the loudest to me thrown between zones
Of canopies where fruit bats silently conjoin. Even the giclée of the painting labored

Through voltage-gated channels cannot invent your anticipated fact, or your traced leavings.