APPLE PIE
Hobo drowses in his Einstein field
of asphodel, spooky distances.
Life’s tender differences...
only mauve peonies on copper shield.
Irrational yearning for the earth
might be the shortest path
to Providence. Wrath
of History’s a concave labyrinth –
your soul must wash a dusty planet
down Big Muddy, Hobo.
Rise from your bed of woe;
our Hero beckons from his granite
lintel toward the circling sun.
Path P (transcendental
for each chaste equal
guest of compassing compassion).
The one who went to live with Indians.
Blackstone, Yellow Sweeting
apple-man – his greeting
(like sweet Williams’ own) a Both-Hands
Welcome, Minnehaha flute –
ray of soul liberty,
ray of soul liberty,
loop of Easter Rabbi...
Hart, Malcolm, Giulietta’s route
bent (parallactic) toward the light.
A catenary smile
or Life-Saver will
thread sad grooves into a chariot.
3.14.16
Mississippi River, from Indian Mounds Park (St. Paul)
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