Two by


Joel Chace








Seagirt.  The phase space of a physical

system is the list of the

configurations in which the system

can be.  To sit at an eastward

window and watch  —  pushing itself

out behind that molten

immensity  —  the sun.  It disrobes,

from darkness, and becomes what’s

to come.  Heavily modal.  Ever-swelling

waves; their exhausted slapping against

the crenellated harbor

wall.  Murmurous layers of

sand sheeting across one another.  Modal,

heavily.  No ideas except

in events, often mistakenly called

things.  Not a science about how the world

is, but a science of how the world can

be.  On that island hidden

beyond the promontory, seals’

wailing, like Beethoven’s

Late Quartets.  Modal, heavenly.





Chaos and Night



Philanthropy of

molecular stew… Illimitable

Ocean, where length, breadth, and

highth, and time and place are lost…At

night, something paws through

fabrics at the bazaar:  exchanges

stripes; fashions knots; expands


Anarchie, for hot, cold, moist,

and dry strive here for Maistrie…Thir 

embryon atoms around the flag of each

his faction…Next morning, vendors

thank their  mingled gods for such

surplus value.  All is hushed and scrubbed

for imminent banquets.  Even

moneylenders seem appeased… the state

of a system is a bookkeeping

device of interactions with

something else…Vertigo heart

plunges, plunges, plunges into

a sweet, deep brew…ore bog or steep, through

strait, rough, dense, or rare, with head, hands,

wings, or feet pursues its

way, and swims or sinks, or

wades, or creeps, or flyes… 









Joel Chace has published work in print and electronic magazines such as Tip of the Knife, E·ratio, Otoliths, Word For/Word, Golden Handcuffs Review and The Brooklyn Rail.  Most recent collections include Humors from Paloma Press, Threnodies from Moria Books, and fata morgana from Unlikely Books.  Maths is forthcoming from Chax Press. 



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