Tin Mirror

All my poems are local, parochial, topical, occasional, & universal.  I can't resist the temptation to hawk & honk them from the rooftop, hot off the grill.  Por favor, please share if you like.  Xerox them.  Paste them on your mirror.  Gracias!


The color of those clouds, above
that soaring pine (her arms
flung wide, green Miriam
bedecked with cones) – vague echo of

El Greco, Michelangelo –
a bit marmoreal.
Disconsolate King of Coal,
Concrete... former Numero Uno,

about to send tears stumbling down
again...  So we sketch the local
monarch.  Him we all
know (Only-Two-Well).  Then someone

in Michoacán – Rosario Ocampo,
maybe – fashions a fine
tin mirror, sealed with twin
doves on double doors (closed, now)

& mails it to a mountaintop
in Galilee (just north
of El Grotto). The earth
is in travail, he murmurs – ope

mi puertaup periscope, Jésus!
Stormclouds part for a flint
moment (lightning) – slate,
smileEl rey ha muerto, vivez

le rêve!  From grassland salience
(Tower Hill, or Mount
Zion) her milkweed font
purls into sylvan stream (pine-sense).


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