'scenic journeys'

window, the views
beyond, there : no
more, is known, is
called : a landscape
is called : an ocean,
the swells, glazed
sleek with moving
surface : silence
in dots in rock
forms, gulls self-
stating space, filled
with the grey
of itself, and itself,
and itself, crying.

as the cheek
of you, the window
of you, as risen
birds, as triangulate
angles of landmass,
rockface, of sea-storm-
scattered pupil stones, as
photons polishing air
hung dense with
weightless cloud-
flats, as signs state
mountains and rivers,
un-assumingly,
toward wide eyed
blue, and ice,
endless air glazed. noise,
over- laid on silence un-
assumingly,

tourist commentaries
arranging what’s there
toward scenery, it’s what
the window knows :
rocks, gulls, waves, a picture
held together by. a face
as this frame, there.
tunnels cut it, collapse
the flat, abruptly into
black you are, and
then erupt again beyond
itself, beyond this
language shifting,
the swell, the waves

moving, the swells
resist the window, resist
framing into: blue, black,
the gull’s eye silent, ever-
motioning outside us,
that plural crooked in
a listening, arranging its
coasts, as navigational
diagrams cohering, as
seal formations among
rocks folded into rocks
arbitrarily, stating a rock-
ness against salt- plants,
but rocks they are. regards,
regard -less