Showing posts with label Daedalus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daedalus. Show all posts

7.12.2017

one last hurdle, Amelia



DANTE CHAIR

The gazebo’s grime-filmed mosquito net.
The black chain-link fence
in backyard Providence
climbed by Clem (mock-orange? Nyet).

Elegant quincunx in Cyrus-orchard.
Natural calculations
for dames in Netherlands –
to sieve the flux of spacetime (hard

homework).  Oxidized old photographs
curl to brown negatives.
A lime-warp cosmos
rolls up like a scroll of epitaphs

on fire.  So memory seems to curdle
too.  Gödel’s fetal pose
(knot of incompleteness).
Here’s the Pacific! – one last hurdle,

Amelia.  Archival snapshot
lost at sea...  your back
on deck, maybe?  Ack-
ack survivor?  Unknown soldier?  Dot

gone a-whaling vast expanse,
revived in some albumen
album.  Icarhea, return
amaze us.  Dad is dead.  All US

mourns you, lass.  Jesus the airman
in a Paris dream   floats
through rainbow dust-motes
light checkmate   first the grain

                *

then the ear   then the grain
of wheat   in the heart
of your ear   lost art
of flying flute   solo   Dakota plain-

song   Black Elk   pilot-fish
naturally Christian
(more so than mission-
school)   so dream your spirit-wish

when the brutal tide of inhumanity
recedes   we will stand
by the shores of Mini-land
bullets   baby hummingbirds   no-see-

ums now   old Green Man chair
of Old Man North   unseen
now too   copper-sheen
bright mold of Liberty   still there

like curule seat of Caesar (Jules)
a Dante chair   Mom spied
in the PX   at Salvation Army
& dragged back home   April Fools!

It’s very rocky   in Armenia
an Abyssinian ark   sleeps
in Paul Bunyan steeps
a Tuscan nurses   meek Elephantea

with yellow ivory   fantasia
folk tales of the sun
shining   for everyone
through rose-glass coracles (acacia)

7.12.17

Sunset (Mississippi River at St. Anthony Falls)

5.21.2017

O more than moon


LITTLE ROOM

90 years ago today
Papa was 5 weeks old.
Lindbergh took off, bold
Icarus... Spirit of St. Louee.

Daedalus built his labyrinth
to keep the Minotaur
at bay.  OK so far.
Only minor casualties – 8 millionth

civilian, 1913 (unknown
poilù).  Our engineers
built expensive tears
into delicate ships, Apollonian

on combers like phosphorus, behind
the shining cranium
(a sort of No-See-Um
mosquito zone).  Dear blind

(icky) Eddy posed this question
to himself : Who’s my father?
Phoebus compiled a rather
complex artifice (Olympic Stadion

to be Demolished Tomorrow)
in order to swim again
beneath Shoshone moon –
just 8 light-years away (somehow

we’ll get there, Apollinaire).
She’ll do her zephyr flute-
dance (Bonfire En Route)
as lithe fiery planetary star

                *

Stravinsky set for 8 août
– he had to settle for
the 4th (Madame Bouvier
demand) – juillet, or thereaboot.

Guillaume bowed to the plumèd crowd.
Jesus on autopilot
rose... began to float
over la Tour Eiffel (meek, not proud).

Lindy surrendered all his clothes,
like Francis (to his father
dead) – rose further
in mondaine esteem – only to close

that gap between our earth & moon.
Bright mother of reflection,
pearl of intellection
(pupil Christ within your black hole zone)

my jottos ink into Francescan gloom,
your caved-in grotto
on my kitchen plot.
Light tenders mercy in that little room.

O moon, your melancholy face
reminds me of my lost race
to perimeter of grace.
Mayflower, constant Falcon-Ace...

paternal covenant of trust.
O arrogance of youth!
To jettison the truth
like so much ballast (bursting dust).

5.20.17