bebop robin


Sophie’s sunny little birthday balloon
with the starry polka-dots
is losing air now – that’s
how it is with balloons.  Under octagon

of the gazebo roof, like a spiderweb
in golden brown.  The Sacred
Wood was reconfigured –
scarred & scored rough oak nub

rounded to slight chaste coracle.
Apollo’s memory of Daphne
wells near Mississippi
into gnarled pillars (maze or miracle?);

one bebop robin solos from 
an Okie nook, wears
pork-pie hat... & there’s
a poppy (rich red-purple plum)

unfolding down his chest – an origami
floating city, cordial
with accordions, with all
things orbital (inverted harmony,

fresco to Viennese).  An island rose
out of infinite green,
balanced on submarine
turtledove blimps (of caritas);

the loping soul of liberty
sprang from Goodwill
her dancing shoes – & (still
traipsing) turns opal Star of the Sea.


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