The latest Dionysus


Rite of Spring twirls out of Paris,
1913 (tight-coiled
as a Springfield
bullet-train).  Apollinaire’s

the latest Dionysus – tranquil
eye of Martian hurricane,
versifying inane
Europe’s Grande Guerre Nonpareil.

He will die too (head-wound).
Le Roi Ubu est mort.
Two threads, athwart
a catenary arc (gray ground,

blue sky) form slow raincloud;
two notes, or three
make melody
like a wedding day, a shimmer-shroud

of mutuality.  The King’s
in Memphis for the evening;
Queen’s busy restoring
an old carol (Acorn Tree-Ring);

Lincoln’s going to the theater
of the war tonight.
Curvature of sharp flint
Choctaw cheekbones, at the center

of the storm – a smiling ridge
of tears.  Pocahontas
cartwheels one meticulous
J² = Mx/Mn x 1132 (thread-bridge).


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