the muse apprentice guild
--expanding the canon into the 21st century


                               Amy Trussell and A. di Michele

unweighted loom cords, clear gazing arms
                           dreaming cats away in night sequences
sun house trousered in the panther's silence
                     jag-god jade sun eating dream based hunger
soon the galaxy set like blood pudding
                                     with a warm galactic core dream
behind khaki growlers chasing the great carvings
               that represent sun meat returning forward
wait, re-enter this stretch of spiral night edge
                                    with no reluctance
reappearing in a military jacket hand-basted
                            with non-threatening thoughts of
the baby voyaging thirsty
                          sending the need to end
dark stalking leopard dreams
                                    through worn spotted dressings
mine were "were-jaguars"
                                 of underworld blood
playing base in the last galaxy set
               in khakis like black panthers
                                         "worth" reappearing again:
the ready dark leopard
                          who sent me spotty negatives
while the jagged sun set in whey
                wait did I throw a baseball at the reverse fatigue corps?
Or was I on a dream jag where it grazed a panther-
                      cautious to cast away my khakis
In case I had to remain chased and reluctant
                               Dreamt in fatigues and galactic jacket
With reversible arms
                                Spotted a mayan in dark leopard stockings
There was a non-threatening chase off
                          as I carved my way through
a clear obsidian night
                  the galaxy arms threw the stalks
the said "underworld voyage"
                                       so I kneaded a carving
worth its weight in jade baby
                                    and ran up the drain
from the underworld
                     panting in reversed light
rehearsed and meathungry
                                       the blood returning
to the sky's edges
                                and my base findertips


                      Amy Trussell and Tom Wright

A crested bird's keening draws me to the rock
And in my heart, it's center formation
There bristles a flickering light
Standing fresh and strong in my mind
I feel compelled to move closer to it.
You are certainly missed, but your words
Are curious- what is it?
Just to have you appear then sneer
At a meteor that had fallen out of grace
Is more than I had ever wondered possible
Nesting in one of the holds of Cone Rock
Like a red winged flicker
You sneer the tip of an extinct volcano,
Someone's primacy, and to
have you almost looks like lava
going through the traffic of everyone's else's work,
burning a hole in the smeared wall of it.
It's so hard to see you from here
I wade in waist deep
And the birds split off
I am vexed at the clusters as the light pours up
As for performance and living
The light opening up the rock
Along these lines
Not the liquid light of lava
But I realized you did something
Wish you were here to verify my intentions
I never saw your live show
But am no stranger to relief and relaxation
You are missed particularly because
Of the world of fellow mortals
No one knows yet:
Can we outlast ourselves
Or at least withstand our feelings?
There is a strange flickering light
Cresting in the tip of an extinct volcano
I call it someone's primacy.