milk of Melchizedek


The aftermath of Epiphany leaves a trace
on the phosphorus snowpath
to the river.  Wrath
versus innocence, my Falcon-Ace

overcome, once for all – in the grace
of a tumbledown guest room
south of Cairo.  (Khartoum,
Alabama?  Memphis?  Someplace.)

Milk of Melchizedek, from starry heights.
Flows through the stone
like Horus off his throne –
like that downward eagle (sights

set on Last Things, Illinois)
Joachim (Francisco boy)
daubed once (with joy)
on Dante’s lambskin rainbow eye.

Henry crawls to the riverbank,
with Hobo.  His numbers
match that Mediator-
Aviator’s, by the grace of Frank –

Tuscan Jesus-mime, Povertà-
swain – Hobo’s Frisco
fresco-twin (hey yo).
The word is cryptic in Columbia

(District)... flies back to mountains
overlooking Red Wing,
Galilee.  So sing,
old Rhody pioneer – Astraea understands.


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