Dirt rubbed: a floating garden smokes the eye-bright
Sky a mirror, reflecting sky.
I remove my clothes and wait; unclothed equally, so
does the sky.
A narrowing of eyes, deep, artificial darkness;
how should dreams know it's noon?
Because the garden's gotten out of hand? or because
So what? How? Who? No name for going, less for gone...
loveless, breathless, sightless; evolving test?
At the 9th level of lessening, will there be rest?
Philip Ramp is an American living in Greece, writing poetry
and translating Greek literature into English. His poems
and translations have appeared in numerous magazines,
anthologies and books over the years, including The Iconoclast,
Bibliophilos, Rattle, and Rattapallax. Shoestring Press,
UK, published his collection JONZ in 1994 and a bilingual
edition of that collection was published by Politica Themata
Publications in Athens, 1997. Other collections include
Butte and Glass of an Organic Class.