Hobo, in the delta (near Florida) wandered
beside levees of the sea. Pocatapetl
fumed in bright ether, somnolent. Little
Maggie McGee kept an eye on him (remembered).
How he sketched things he barely heard, saw.
Like that funnel-cloud of Okeanos (angry
flipside of a smile) – that Feininger
photogravure, Stella-vortex (Stella!) – hot
n’tot’s wormhole, quicksand-burning (Africa).
Poor baby in a crib of delta gamblers
(chance wobbles on waves, where wagers
mince). Green envy's iceberg-throne (back, back).
The conscience-stricken ne’er-do-well bears
premonitions of returning (rose-golden ore-
liquorice of honeyed limestone)... & if he
does, he will be welcomed there. He shares
their scrivened waiting – lento, Lenten
of understanding all compact (charity’s
emblem, seal-wide, spindrift)... done.
I will enquire regarding the plain path
to the pavilion (your sacrifice of joy).
Your house. Your tabernacle (oh boy,
swallow-shadow) – your gate of wrath.
Behold, a small green whirr, over rock
in secret thunder-spot : where
Cherokee crossroad (fern theater)
aligns a flame (hummingbird hummock).