RAVEN-VERSTS
In the film like a dream, or film-like dream,
amid inalienable pine-
swamps of yourself, a line
scratched by crow divides team
from ox, sheep from flock. Ineluctable
quiddity of ramshackle
vernacular. You will tackle
each day’s unaccountable trouble,
snaking sly-inching replicas
of raven-versts across
your brow (Voronezh
barb-shears). & those hills, alas!
in Tuscany... & here the tang
of spoiled fish, seaweed,
salt-marsh... Hobo-reedy
outcast, you’ll note the rusty clang
from vertical train-tracks – glamorous
icons of onion-dome
supremacy, driven home
by battery ram. Yet chasteness
still shines from Black Sea mirror
(gray pebble in a seagull’s
beak). Galilean silence
rustles on lakeshore. After the furor
of a jealous djinn tears past, the sun
will peek forth without wrath –
retrace your raven-path
in filaments of violet, moss-green.
12.14.15
(Chester, live cat, in the rocker; metal replica of Pushkin on the floor)
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