Blackbox manifold

Issue 14: Henry Gould


Horsegrass Seed

The irony of this copper crown

I ring around your hair –

this semi-thick fiber for

yon russet-gold & windsown

filament of horsegrass seed (cold

dark axion out of chiral

superfield). Dear radio-loud

fermionic superpartner... my old

cartoon of your invisibility

is buried nearby (in the

cosmic attic, maybe).

As if I could draw your ability

to be wherever I be, Yam-Wham

O bright magmonic tennis

gamin! (Please scan the scrim

for WIMP- or MACHO-errors, Clem.)

My silver tuning-fork, only an echo

of sea-bells (rose island

adages, Miranda).

Caustic firemasterings still flow

to the stony ceiling, where his face

beams (Galilean gallery night).

Ladders, long-neck sprites,

sword planted for a crosspiece

in that sink-point copper prow...

the oldest crown of all.

A 7x7” buttermilk burial

will cradle your cranium (for now).


Mire Pebble

O king of kings, of kings... ping, ping...

mere pebble in the fountain’s

fascinatin’ facets, Hen.

Trade you my turtle for that willow thing,

pal. Love’s always on the fair side

of the sketchpad – always

2 or 3 guys,

gals (sad Millicent Pip says



A PANE Madonna with Munchkin

Surrounded by Penned B-B Gun

Pullets, or Satan’s Greatest Hits

(kapustulation at Munich).

Uneasy lime the sick

& squirrmink soul... see, he vomits

worms, that Prince o’Poococks.

Nobody lubber him no mare.

He th’umptiest man-hare

in the stream – block-rovin’ avis-ox...

Your stone weigh more’n this M-

&-M, aimin’ for shore.

– Chocolish be pure

rococo-novo PIE in MY tank’s giveye, Hem.

Let us contangle this convocation

on the Plain of Explanation,

Thesis. – Mizn’t shum

the tautrope, needle, Addie Marion.



The mild idea of August, when the season

shifts down slowly

like a Susan (dark-eyed

teetering sun). & how then

untie this Cornish nut? Old man

of concrete sorrows, clay-

foot minnow-tar, so thickly

barnacled, gillied o’er wi’ tin-can

regalia... highland loading-docks

for lotos-haggles. Knot

for Gordon or McNutt

indeed! Go & tell that phlox

something greener than Macbee

be here! In humble Hubble

pebble-hubbub, stubble

of autumnal sensibility... you’ll see.

Rook through the crooked mirror,

maven. Some Thanksgiving

nods in the riddling

rhizome’s kid-scrawled wisdom (barely

there). Somebody’s paw, leafing

from the aqua liner

like a buoy – slim silver

bone-whistle (Asclepios-thief).

A wheel of emerald palms (Phoebus

folk-art). Very unique

linen, spun with coral eye-

drops reefed to each lifeline (outré rebus).


Strum Softly

If I extend a handle on

this raven-winged

diagram – & spring

an abstract of some gamelan-

hieratic chessbud’s ovoid willow-

drawings – some Abyssinian

synthesis (elephant-clown

in boxer-trainers)... Grace might go

with you, Cindy, to the well.

Fallacious, maybe, but

archaic, too. Something attic-

mitten Hittite’s southern belle’s

Ptolemy about him. Might be

the beginning of some word

or name Edwardian

Antiquaries overlooky-lookied –

crucigerous Ensigne-navvy, or


chippy’s waterboard...

Aye-aye, Chaplain. Too heavy

& too knotty by half, Bogey-

man. O this victorious

waterfowl of senseless

adoration – peacock’s Jubilee-

midéwe dalliance! Only memory

of your hermetic lips’

vermilion... while ships

strum softly on up to Itasca (for thee).


Henry Gould's essays and reviews have appeared in Critical Flame, Coldfront, and elsewhere.  More poems from Ravenna Diagram have been published in Blackbox Manifold 12, the Battersea Review, Notre Dame Review, and West Branch.  He lives in Providence, Rhode Island