on the day in question
the sky's a wineskin it
suppurates
or a foam for aviators
their slick
tunnels intersect
(furious
distant
trumpets)
while the inside of this movie
projects into meandering
streams
navigators'
dreams
(on star ships
anchored in suns
as their capstans
unwind)
spill sailors
into the
dark they
see shining