... through that ever-
expanding interval, were never more
than these
late bees you'd
scribble: what hung, like sucklings, from the

fat,
dangling clusters; than these desolate, verb-
studded landscapes you'd
murmur, even
hiss into

some other, some ever else-
where's
ear.


"A Self-Portrait in Late Autumn" and "Transparent Itineraries: 1999" by Gustaf Sobin can be found in the print issue of Conjunctions:35, American Poetry: States of the Art