EDGES an ion, or eucalyptus smoke in the chimney the raveled edge of blackness cut velvet. the wind-frayed raven wing poised on grasstops shifts back into silent strata the black edge of yellow the brown velvet scent of pine-smoked tea monarch butterflies in the white camellias. candy cigarettes & plastic motorcycles & the green green grass shards of memory light. the forgotten beginning. pink pink daylight through naptime camellias & old buttons turning to dust below the sash. concrete donkeys painted bright! fences. finding it. getting it to come. coming to it. valleys of thought, rivers of light, neural rainbows! i remember what came before. little boxes of time. tunnels of weeks & days & noontime alleys with chrome. milkglass fantasies. time sashaying through golden glasslight & coming out pure. the green glass candydish with the butterscotch wrappers, on the mediterranean table with black iron handles. solid as vision or thought ~ only what is in the moment. in the moment. again, again, in the moment. lost in the middle of the tunnel of time. "Just as the sun shines through a glass - as though divested of body & substance - so the stars penetrate one another in the body. For the sun and the moon and all planets, as well as all the stars and the whole chaos are in man...the body attracts heaven." ~ Paracelsus mexican flowers. the crying Oaxacan mask on red cloth on the wall of the silver Airstream heading south. grapes in a plastic bowl.
Denise Enck recently discovered that she is a synaesthete, perceiving time, numbers, and other abstractions as having form, texture, and sometimes color. This revelation has led her to explore synaesthesia through journals and art.
Denise’s poems have been published in such places as The Cafe Review, Angelflesh, Tight, Indefinite Space, Haight Ashbury Literary Journal, & online at Frank’s Home. She is webmaven for McClureManzarek.com and founder/editor of Empty Mirror.