Anamorphis: On a Secret Portrait of Bonnie Prince Charlie, West Highland Museum, Scotland He never ran on issues, claiming a chromosome shuffle, but slewed in the colors' auguries, uncaught by silver curve, he tantalizes those determined to be amazed without smoke or mirrors. For a while nothing bequiles me but glitter and black, flakes the color of cat cries, (or wine wild eyes?)-- maybe only cold stars, a stare's delusion of blueing magnitude. But palpable is the noise of thronged life, and the crashing of hot cymbal so thus, these colors coalesce: red nerves, a shriek unglued, three shades of magenta like a sky lowering over too much history. Then emerging parts, bits, of you, your tiny future: no face yet but privative months set forth to snatch perception: lost March, lost April, May, and the way cities rose, brimming burns bent, parted at your touch. Splendid the muffled inklings, the face faking form, in the church of imagination until finally the great pretender himself! colours within colours, splendid, him, in the hours when earth's uneven work hung in balance like a laurel, the middle of all other omnipotent idea. Dorie LaRue Dorie LaRue teaches at LSU in Shrevport, LA. Her book of poems, Mad Rains, was published in 2014. Her novel, Resurrecting Virgil, won the Omaha Prize for Fiction. Both are available on Amazon.
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Dorie LaRue
6/4/2019 05:39:13 am
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June 2025
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