from the bottom of the sea


Those howling Oklahoma twisters
are more than metaphor
for the ravenous bonfire,
the rabid war in the man-monster –

the Minotaur in the guilty coil
on the Chartres floor
(beneath wooden choir
where Theseus & Ariadne smile,

are reconciled).  Who can lift
the great icosahedron?
Unbind our Gordian
distempered steel – the feral gift

of chimp dominion?  One copper penny
spinning heads-&-tails
goes gyroscope.  Tall sails
press on from stony Normandy

(led by that spine of Juliet-Perdita)
past Flanders wars
into La Paix.  Who soars,
now, from the bottom of the sea...

an Acorn Maid, in a rite of spring
flecked from a deeper wound.
Crevasse of raven-sound,
convenient cripple-victim-thing

turns inside-out; one Joseph’s coat
patchwork mosaic spells
Liberty – swings bells
of Jubilee (round vibrant note).


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