“The stable is empty tonight— / The mares are asleep on the meadow”
Three Poems
Cecropia[1.Cecropia moths (Hyalophora cecropia) in their adult form have no mouths or digestive systems.They reproduce and starve to death within two weeks of maturity.]
It begins, O! Nausea
My name still misses U It’s not your fault
You read between the lines When you turned around
You did I did
I am the lady with tulips I received a letter
A lily resting afloat The butterfly effect
Ponder; did I catch the bouquet? Second calling, nine two six
To be raptured means You could not wait
To ascend into heaven For me to fall in love
Second Coming INELUCTABLE
I did not know I did not know
Though the vultures warned The metamorphosis ended
Of my two lips With a moth
I was reaching for the camera I was reaching for the chimera
But we kissed instead But the filters faded
Why did you look so sad? The muse wears a question
Orb on a hill On her finger
How You See It
i. Night
The stable is empty tonight—
The mares are asleep on the meadow,
Occasional feeling that a winged being
Swooped by low, then high,
Now a feeling that the wingéd
Being is watching you.
ii. Day
In daylight, in the field, a bloody canary—
Somebody’s afternoon meal.
Untitled
The chest is often impaled amid
Something beautiful still,
A tenderness within its scent, loftier—
Heavenly below the bowl of the eyes.
And it swoons you out of this room, sways you
To a time you once deserved and deserted, the sounds of a barrier reef
Circling in a swollen motion in your inner ear, almost
A breath expelled at the dusk of being, the richness of her
Fond rounded lips,
Pressing— as a breast presses against a cold stone wall, warming, softening,
Making full the cave, endlessly pressing, expanding, imploring in a light pink
Gesture; and sore, perhaps pressed and pierced, pressed and pierced,
Pierced in an eternal quality, pierced, until loosened, the mind lets go.