THREAD SHADOW
The long flat barge, the tugboat
pushing a pile of dirt
upstream – the delicate
reddenings of autumn trees... what
was Henry saying? – up Big Muddy...
Onshore, the back of Hobo
bent like wheedling oboe.
Imago of male failure (Osage hey ey
yo). Autumn moon... they smoke
& dawdle out the sunshine.
She was a figurehead of mine,
Miss Posy; felled with a single stroke
(of either oar). Nobody you’d know.
Besides, was long time ago;
sort of a dream-show.
Some tormented buried Poe-ego (Pogo)
traveling unraveled down Path P.
Nominated Henry
(domestic amity
is key to what-y-call happy).
Something between a rat-mensch
& Minotaur. All entrailed
with entitlements, failed
fatherhoods... sweats on the bench.
Mercy of a rude stream, somebody
said. Children of want
want what they, but can’t.
Have. Le-Hev-Hev, spidery
*
black hole of the cannibals...
Only a drawn-in breath,
inhalation of death.
That’s all, folks (snaky nuptials).
Hollywood, Kali-Kali-fornia.
The sacred woodpecker’s
your twin prospector –
gold-digging Theoria, Inc. (wing
of raven feathering from cloud).
It’s a Pacific mist,
mister – a golden twist
on Vertigo, for crying out loud!
Shapes of a familiar otherness...
someone you know. Her
scent (don’t bother
to ask). As from the wilderness
of the sea (or out of a bath).
Not Venus, exactly –
not even Aphrodite...
maybe antipodal Sheba,
Queen of the South? Or maybe Johnnie
of the Ark, or Jeanne,
or Mary Magdalen...
under cedars of Lebanon (selah).
Sometimes you see a faint rainbow
on concrete sidewalk.
& someday somebody will talk
to you (smiling wave thread shadow).
10.8.17
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