O Fontegaia... the long goodby (one more to go).

26

 
Cousin Juliet threw a spanner   in the Works of Time
waving goodby   from the Golden Gate (her father's
birthday) long time gone   & left me dangling here
between earth & heaven   like a sulky Absalom

 
That was 37 years ago   my son, my son
crossing the J-sign   slow jaywalk (against
traffic)   on a unicycle   there she goes again
amusing, she   dove   in a spiral   a stealthy unison

 
near middle C (B-flt w/suspended chord) curls
(fetal, fatal)   toward Cirque,   the grainy source
(only a mummery)   coos, cooing   & the curse
(curving, along a   consolation course)   unfurls

 
her flagging route   through 50 stars   toward Jubilee
&   a cardinal-red wolf-whistle signals   car alarms, or
carillons   over   beseeching flowers,   where
these final notes   coming winging   down   to me :

 
& so   the news leaks out   like milk from the breast
at the rim   of a constellation   &   mumbling lips
try to trace   those lucid   lineaments,   slip
from wet clay curve   to a bend in the poetry, a

 
bow   at rest   in the sky   (like an eyebrow
over the   blue,   a   smile   spanning   from earth
to epicentered   mile-long bridge   (near Bloomington)
like   half an almond, handed   to the other half now

 
(eye-in-hand, Eurydice... from long ago)   only
the drone of cicada-love, the restoration oil poured
out (O longest day)   a chrysm   over the chasm   my
sweet oeuil, my   all-monde   toot-suite   (signet, Julie)

          
                                              6.20.08