X. La Carrière

X. La Carrière

The bird above mentioned, the spiral storm cloud, the tilt in tens

Of degrees—A motive we have not as of yet touched, the imprimatura

Still wet—In the beginning; ten words, and between us, the silk’s coagulated

Stream—Chiostro verde; the iron joints torsional, where a flood is crystalline—

Both received and receding in Uccello’s lunette (1497); soft red linings of apsides—

Galileo’s maculations, libration, then blindness; a half decade later, Newton’s nativity

1642—Riccoli’s occulting bar put to a crescent of the greenhouse planet—A nativity
Of ashen light (1633) expanding arcseconds—Venus's unlit portion of unmindful static—Ten
Hats of the Battle of San Romano (c.1435)—Each mazzocchi a yoke from a rower of the apsidal
Deluge, we sense the epicenter’s vagal afferent bypassing the spinal cord—Oiled imprimatura;

Vapor phase isotopes, of rupture—Our satellite drawn from the Morning Star; its coagulated

Flood basalt has since then leveled as Uccello’s lances along the ghost pavement—Crystalline

Gestures, the nine-month gestation of Émile Zola’s L'œuvre (c. 1885)—Cézanne’s crystalline,
Deep sandstone aquifers, from the Cone collection, Mont Sainte-Victoire (1897), a nativity
In conic sections of the Bibémus quarries—Then Claude began looking for his own picture coagulating
Inside Christine Hallegrain; her darkened face impending the waning moon of the cupola—Ten
Years later; the first work he managed to place, La maison du pendu, Auvers-sur-Oise (1873)—In the apsidal
Gallery of the Salon des Refusés, Manet’s bather lies in propinquity to or confinement of the forest’s imprimatura

There is Uccello’s somnolent St. George and the Dragon (c.1470); his lance angled over the parterre, an imprimatura—

A 72-point  dodecahedron of the mind altering its meaning—Anju whirling, but crystalline,
Inside the grotto asserting its hegemony as a crown of thorns; its whispers carried by apsides—

Cézanne was most at home in slab-like constructions feathered by an assured flint—The native
At the center of the universe—The painter who miscarried; never at the center of himself: nine days out of ten—

After Zola exposed this furrow of misery, their correspondence ended—Our bodies’ coagulated

Points in lunar orbit pronounce Schwob's vie imaginaire of Uccello, with arrays seemingly coagulated

Into a dense mystery—The Ashmolean’s Hunt in the Forest (c.1470), the last known imprimatura

Of the artist’s career astonishes as the recent plume of ice water pitched by landing—The Apollo 10

Samples, wherein the hydroxylic scaffold of genesis is missed by a blind instrument, such is a basaltic plain's crystalline

Submission—The design hits you the moment you see it; for the cocooned woman, with its apsidal

Image in a storeroom invaded by her would-be lover’s thoughts—Beyond the pollard oaks, a nativity

Rarely recognized in these pyroclastic glasses of lunar maria, where canonical nativities
Flutter in perpetuity, with crescent hinges of longing suggested at the muzzles and docks—Coagulated,

The charmer as Claude Lantier, favors the pictures with her face cropped—Returning to the apsidal
Soul’s green chapel, where the fluid rotates like rigid body, conceiving knowledge of an imprimatura
On this night of the smallest full moon of year—Reflecting each tensed fascicle firing at ten
Spikes per second—Apprenticed at the age of ten, Uccello recognized the ten panels of Ghiberti’s crystalline

Gates of Paradise (1452) as a unifying scaffold defying the mind’s crystalline borders, the nativity’s

Donkey-slumped burden—Alighting the apsidal flood of creation, with Venusian imprimatura—

This, our concurrent debarkation of ten hours coagulates the luminescent bulb when the winter is over—