The Instant that Isn't

The crowd, too, is a trio--
three strangers here becoming
nothing less than unknown
as ourselves. Why else sit
with this look of
jazz in our eyes? I see you
and before the glance decays
there is time to forget
the 64 words for now.
There is the instant that isn't
before or after.

Beyond the end of your boot
begins the logical curve
of your calf.

The flawless flow
from limit to limit;
how many worlds are lost
in a language?

Thus, this is
how we unknow them,
much as ourselves. The invisible
within invisibility. And, so I love
to say, "Your face," and
"Let's behave like the dance of smoke
that shows our grave is smouldering."



by jerry gordon
3.10.06
Bebop International at Savannah