Sunday, May 13, 2007

Brushfire Sun

"...the same wind which extinguishes a lamp will fan a fire..."

---Beaumarchais, The Barber of Seville.



Dreamless, stirred by
the lone call of
a mourning dove,
I rose

to an urn emptied world

I crossed the threshold


a Bingo Parlor
Pall
decked morn
with a dirty,
worn,
shift


my nose itched
and seconded my lungs
plaint----
I coughed


Above it all,
Perfectly
Spherical,
Shone a piss-orange
Sun

These skies,
the
simulacra of
Bellona's pyre-
filled vault

"the smoke-kissed
tombs of heroes"

as Lucan,
the Matricide,
sang


has the meteor hit?
the one
destined to smother
us with
eternal peace.......


And yet, though
leaden with ash,
the day seems
too bright

Making my eyes
strain and tear

Still
I live
and forget
the work
of seeing
and breathing

through another
dense day.



3 comments:

Anatole David said...

"as Lucan,
the Matricide,
Sang."


is that right? or does "sung' work?

Anatole David said...

Binx helped me--he's kind----props to BINX

Beysshoes said...

Boncheeks? que? What does this name mean... your cheeks are full of bonbons? Oh and keep the "sang" please. It's cryptic enough without you messing with the tenses. Sarai