OPEN SEA
This Hobo, then – who he?
Lounging by Mississippi
lumpy, caw-caw-hokey
groaning accidentally for She-
Bear – as for primordial Iris.
Great purple monarch,
Theodora in birchbark –
like unto Micòl, or MLK (who is
& was & will be, by the light
of Milky Way). His Big
Rock Candy brig
like a Black Sea barred-owl frigate
slants downstream, toward Colchis
or N’Orleans golden fleece –
& that arc, that St. Louis
centerpiece, shaped an L for his
Osiris lance (his buoyant flatboat
horizontal). Troubled in mind,
some perpetual blind
haunt (old King Unfort, behind his moat).
& the whole American Dream lies
like dustbowl wasteland
of frosted heart, hard hand.
Sleepwalkers, unredeemed Henries
*
*
yoked to their stock. An iron band
for an age of iron years,
until they can weep tears
again... up to the waist in river-sand.
Providence is in our eye,
he mumbles to himself.
In Ocean State – elf-
green, Rose Island red... (sigh).
Immaculate, born from the sea...
baptism for Columbia,
the Jonah-Dove. Selah.
An overlay, a palimpsest... a little tree
of life & liberty... an ark
bearing a covenant
of loving-loyal parent,
child – for you, America. Embark.
Into the open sea of universality,
where the human fingerprint
whorls to its fundament –
that knot of radiant mutuality –
the heart’s own ruby (in a sapphire ring).
So melt the iron with a diamond
flame, graft flowering almond
to the great oak’s mistletoe, & bring
the limping Hobo-King into her limpid
shade, moss-green & grey...
Hagia Sophia, who shall be
statutes of Liberty – dancing, embodied.
6.8.18
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