Matthew Cooperman

Seen and Felt Watching

"No single perspective."
The various watchings of the neighborhood.
The trees watching (silver maple) also
          the silver of oxides
which are salts watching the earth

in its "no single valence."
From here the dam is a purple wall.
From here I am under the earth.
As if a mine is a place also because of watching.

From space we gather a sense of immensity
           but no one's seen in.
No one is the name of perspective.

For context let's assume a bowling alley
           stellar precision of pin's variety of placing
                  up and down.
To the left is another league
           and to the right is a meteoric supply company.
Each of these is its own aesthetic immensity.

Now multiplied by the lack of a single perspective.
It's dust motes from Mercury, Andromeda from Uncle Lou's,
           (mercury making "surface" seem so much illusion.

On the road to the shore there's a "little moon"
           from my window, there's an immense silver surface
suddenly in the car. No single person is driving
                   though there's a thermal quickening of next to.

"A next to." Felt wallet.
When I get to the globular cluster I will join,
           a light very slowly which might be a mine.
                   Recognition digging        (a seen and felt.

From there the bowling motion of won plenitude.


© 2002 Electronic Poetry Review