painting by Mary R. Gould, born 12.26.1927
SPIRAL HUT
Hobo moseys down his usual shore,
thinking of the finish line.
Plays with his river-sign,
his spiral hut of shoreline lore.
Someday there might be an algorithm
for the eyes in the mirror,
the project of the logosphere
curved beneath Beatrice-smile... leaf-skim
fluttering in Pentecostal glossolayea
round those pillars of Diana
stolen for Hagia Sophia
by Justinian (Solomon, I have outdone ye).
The builder’s signal of completion, the flag
of a little pine tree
planted like perfect akme
at the apex. Unknown Soldier’s Rag
of worn linen. Shakespeare’s cap
of happiness, he said,
that buried pot – not dead,
not even sleeping; where rays overlap
into a solid beam (centripetal matrix
of a million eyes). It is
finished, this Poe-biz –
seraphic wayfaring Eureka-box
of pinecones, green acorns. & the canoe
of flowering almond ribs...
your singing coracle of orbs,
suspended in accord from sapphire-blue.
12.26.19
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