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A Red Turning Earlier:
A Postulate for Ali Alizadeh

history’s obliterating reply
failed by possession
she clamours for ritual

in the duplicitous grey dawn
as distemporal images
horizon sibilant on riverbed cinders
we were but listless hunters
adrift in the word’s white armature

the consequence is chrysalid
you are my ruins of earth
half-articulated

something consigned to memory
plunges in the reflection of the white pall of image’s field
our presence glitters in wounded constellations

incanting you—
on this consecrated ground
I incant a name
an image’s inchoate exteriority

how do you atone for history
in the landscape of the mind
arrivals at the silence beginning


 
 
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Matthew Hall