Notes on Creation: Cygnus

Whether effervescent or
similarly incensed, I flew:
a million feathers
left behind, and tear-pools
on the ledges under Gemini's
embrace. (I, wanting
intersecting feeling
and memorable fates,
was inclined to fall).

I did. I made it run (I fell).
I saw three women each
give birth and call
it quits. I saw them
cry. I saw them die
and name each child.

and my love, the brethren stars,
went desperately flying.

Joey is Inside his Cat

Affection-cloud
and tongued; breathing
mildly (and light,
revealing all within
my chest-feeling).
Gray-shroud
and gentle fright;
I lay for
joyful hours.

Postlude

When screaming free-green
surrounded me, pushing onward
like cheering crowds.

Some rift began,
something broke,
some rifts ended
for what seemed
like a day.

I was breathing, green-freed,
and the heat was pure.

Sanguine Libertine

Bloody Sunday:
massacre of soul (imagine Parker with
an battle-axe, sans saxophone).

Electric-lit microcosm, my eyes:
I see, for at least
the sixth first time.

Furious nights have
stifled fear that I may die: And this
is-This is (this, is) I.

An Apology

Blinded by shimmering
tree-laden soil, I flew away:
to grieve. Grief, my savior,
my destiny away from here
took hold (I, possessed)
and taught me to sing.
I woke each settling day
to dance. I ran and stood for
what I thought love was (mere
grain of wheat, unblessed).

Perhaps (to some) a seed,
I lived and loved wind.
Forgot far-away loves
and purer things, asked
the new dawn for beauty
(what is it, would heed
my lust, would grant kind
words beyond the sieve
of death, would surely mask
and drug my sleeping duty?).

And I, newly lightened
can no longer rise
the same, cannot seek.
I stand greenly upright,
but my bud is closed.
My petals are black.