Light at All Angles
Light at all angles, whispers all around I can never get close to.
DON’T WORRY IT’S STILL ME, radioed in, the rain eliminating all interference, turning two faces in the blaze of its bends, I brashly plant my flag in the middle of a monologuing wind, I pull the reigns at each end of my smile,
Pulling the curtain from both sides of the river,
MUTTERING THROUGH THE STRIKES AND CARESSES, TOSSING AND TURNING BETWEEN GIANT BED POSTS RISING INTO THE NIGHT LIKE SPIRES.
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What motherly creature casts its flying shadow upon me,
Ominous to remind me
That before I throw my life away
There’s something I must do first, someone I must see before I learn of
The eye disembodied,
The keystone hanging madly in the air
As its arch falls to pieces.
Kisses wire-drawn, darkly assigned and coinciding quietly with cursory whips in the curtains, gallons of moonlight steadily flowing — I just have to plunge my hands and even my head in
To know that I am not satisfied with these cosmetic changes.
I am afraid of the earth, what shadows in the rain will exceed me, I am just a seed as I pray and pretend to be growing, if and when the sleep will find me, curled up and violently minding my own business,
I will begin to remember.
Don’t worry it’s still me, flickering lucid.
I still can’t square it, I can’t stop staring,
A force of nature pretends,
The rain eliminates what I was hoping to glimpse.
My forebears initiated this premise —
A duck plunges its head in the water, the whole world freezes,
Its wings twitch once with an afterthought.
