so much depends
upon
a Rhody Red
Hen
soused with sea
water
beside the Black
Ships
So I'm starting up chapter 4 of the Ravenna Diagram qua-qua train. Along with many another internal reverb, there are things in this excerpt which only make sense if you happened to read the Providence Journal newspaper this week... such as the fact that the 2015 North American Irish Dance Championships were held in Providence this year... or that Glee Gum is just one of Deborah Schimberg's exercises in earthy & empathetic enterprise (we were both in the local agriculture & community greenhouse biz back in 1980 or so - she kept at it).
Sail on, Ocean State -
OCEAN STATE
Bridget flings her emerald
signal flags SE,
NW – kicks her heels
& gyroscopes along a thread
of starfish glisten (penciled
Cornish involution).
You follow her confusion
of species, her grave mongreloid
ellipse, toward the vault of your own
vertigo (in exitu
del mio Gypsy-o) –
the weight of this diamond casket (sun-
burnt charcoal). Mark the black rings
beneath her eyes, ringlets
of raven-hair, her fits
& stirs. How the pain sings
on the way to Mendelssohn, or
Littletree – way back
to the cricket-shack.
Venite, powerful western star...
or is it North, now (dizziness
part of the package)? I’m
packing my leaving rhyme,
my Rhody limes. I guess this is
a goodbye tootle. Ocean state.
Vast in our eye, your
jewelry gum (Glee-ore) –
the giving was the thing, chic mate.
7.6.15
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