AMELIA EARHART DAY BEACON
First the sea attuned
to some stable thing
clouds blowing over a bolstered buzz
a flowering supply of beasts here
The metal springs
outside say to cut this film
of the authentically beautiful
of the event horizon of beautiful
To shut down our watching
This pinprick of atoms, always in motion
in bodies, entryways
What is the future of this island
Our knocked hip our word one
Doubly dark now
in the marginalia
my singing, probing
An attempt to mouth some winter
a wish to run over baby snakes
to step into what little signal there is left
and make rooms of equal size
We are permanently
hard to say
a waking wall a body wall
And should I come now or now
Or build a losing ground
Or stand braided over the stairs
To drop a wreath
over our primed island
Women as fingers born forward
A hunger blister has taken me deep through
But what to guarantee
What symptoms are we to each other
What wide wire markings on the canopy
No loving sounds are we now
Now fastened
to the chilled galaxy |