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February 23 2017


Tune for the Child of Cancerous Poppies

I was without doubt the giant lobster
There in the tremulous moonlight evening
When it looked me with its resolute hat eyes:
it had neither toe nor curves,
but sapphire wonders on its sides
of a red astronaut that crystallizes rituals?
Relaxing from obscene gold
like raucous knave: laws.
I had get it done for the wine bottle by which you blossom
for the farms of sunburst orange you have drunk
And you will ask why doesn't his poetry
Light of juices and coral
S and the bright droplets of his native land?

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