let me orchestrate a pantomime

NUT-BRIDGE

Epileptic Dante struggling like a trapped ant

in his centaur-world

in medias res, Gould –

in RI, for example (not so pleasant).

& nothing gets better in Minneapolis

immediately, automatically

or even slowly, gradually

& verbiage without chasteness

is only noise, eh.  We all agree, eh?

IGNIS NATURA RENOVATUR INTEGRA

– fire renews nature as a

whole – spiritual telos of poetry...

So let me orchestrate a pantomime

rooted in that ancient flame

proceeding from a paradigm

of our immaculate Ariadne-dame;

the shoreline seething with desire

under a summer moon again,

& memory of lambent pain

(Ocean’s infinite suspire).

As when Hart’s Hobo settles down

at last... rolls on to sea

& stubborn ghost of MLK

becomes triform Medusa-Charon

only to deliver newborns (on

St. Christopher’s Day).

Naked Nut-bridge, say –

or eye-in-hand (almonds in Mendelssohn).

7.7.19

A fleece of milky rain

KIND FARE

Like a brown wren building a nest

with twine camouflage,

or a Joan in the Stone Age

on her inexplicable quest

to sketch the lineaments of splendor

(milky star-field in a barn

or Jason with a ball of yarn)

– how the sea calls Jonas under!

The booming surf his Book of J,

the figure on the prow

with heavy eyes... mild Io?

coaxing him to low brown clay

in gloom, beneath an ancient bridge...

where a rose may lie.

An olive shade skims by

overhead (a palm sweeps its edge).

Between bullhorns, he marks the twain.

Gaunt Maximus, in Colchis,

ancient of days (his

beard like a fleece of milky rain)

burbles an almond-scent breeze

he feels, not sees... melting

aria of everything,

snow-knot of spring (Persephone’s).

Like high sea-gates in sunlight, in salt air...

feathers of jasper & bronze

filigree one true coin’s

moss-green (Lincoln mite... kind fare).

4.21.16