After D.H. Lawrence & Czeslaw Milosz

(Like Lawrence’s Mystic on Milosz’s Earth)

in the pursuit of the real relentless and sweet like a too-big bite taken
from wineshineskinned red apple clear juice sweating coolly
out the sides and center divot of my lips
beyond and back I slide ride diggety-dive
over and under my thumb holding up that slack-jawed chin grin and

tuck it in hide my surprise
don’t push the envelope
fold it in half
remember the dead
fold it in half again
forget your promises
fold it again
whisper
try folding the thickness one last triangle time
suck in a tooth-shuddering flick of air
between pulsing clenches of jaw

in the pursuit of the unattainable
sullen and bitter like a broken grape seed
against the side of my tongue
bite down on this
and wander in the streets of some city that seems familiar
to someone else