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| 'Death of Orpheus', 1866, Émile Lévy |
her enemies we piked
the quieter the response
the more dampeners
we awoke by claiming
the night as our plaything ...
we spoke
poked token pacts
packs of sea wolves
and grown limbs from fins
we were black and white
these held breath depth
starved lights
we were orca
we'd run the schools
off the east coast
sonic weaponry
were disrupting
all mammals' radio telemetries
interfering with our mythology
studies ...
we knew
tried and true
that glue
and horse meat
came with the
shoe laces too
we had no choice
our market scared
to move from hair
and our houe slave
cobbler elves
disappeared centuries ago
they too
became legends
we'd tell
around holidays
no luxuries
save time
and communion
around fire
soup, smile
and lyre ...
the best
and the
most dangerous
of our divinities
lie purely
in needs
we keep
closest
to the vest ...
there is no future to save
when you can't breathe right now
I wonder, hearing myself,
am I an empty valence shell
tangled up red shift blue shift
ant 2 hopper play 2 toil 2 lift
what mother may eye
paint pleasurably
have you solitude
nine pin and kegs
some thunder valley ore
I told her
Mingus
was the man
and she smiled
and said,
"well now
aren't you
my handsome
in the moment poet,
you've never been
or even seen
what is
beneath
my underdog" ...
I poured another drink
and leaned in
to be bitten
again and again
the way melodies
repeat
because I said to myself, a poem
you cannot be
nor turned
into a pig
overnight
unless you get
wand-e-ring right
death comes to seek
your counsel
then to pray
preying to be
staved alive
inside poem
today
EJR ©
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