Rudy Shackelford See Work POETRY / Summer 1970 Site of Future Construction By Rudy Shackelford If there are churchesThis is where a church might be,A theatre if there are theatres, orA store. POETRY / Summer 1970 Icarus II By Rudy Shackelford Wingbones shattered—feathersScattered over the continent—The four unbroken animal limbs beatingA shadow-wind to keep aloft: POETRY / Summer 1970 The Extension By Rudy Shackelford This dice-white Princess desk phoneIs a ghost, wearing a small bellAbout its throat. POETRY / Summer 1970 Waltzes for Mechanical Piano By Rudy Shackelford As the scroll unrolls, scalesRipple by the glass like fishesFlashing gaseous tails, POETRY / Summer 1970 An Old Timepiece By Rudy Shackelford Tenderest pendulum, Your slender stem is Tremulous as it enters The minute’s fundamental; POETRY / Summer 1970 Harvest Scene By Rudy Shackelford I am a field.I am a blade of grassWithin the field. POETRY / Summer 1970 Life Cycle of the Snowman By Rudy Shackelford Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth,That wide wet kisser weSmacked on to justify a pipe. POETRY / Summer 1970 Tarper’s Progress By Rudy Shackelford “My mother lit me (father was her match)And set me in a draught to catch my breath.
