MYSTERY PLAY
Somewhere in the archives of the sea
the salt preserves a memory
of miniature incestuous Providence
beneath gray dandruff caverns of asbestos
mingling with cigarette puff-clouds
where caffeinated VISTA crowds
light up the Brown & Sharpe building
to hash out next year’s organizing
plot. The State House marble sepulcher
will grudge them their rotunda for another
Machiavellian tear-jerker, or mystery play.
Castaways will show. Henry will have his day
– Shelton, that is (St. Francis of the street).
O sea-rose waif, that rock and sky make sweet!
Dream swells your impulse for the public good
and flings a grace note (orbic neighborhood).
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