ZOO APPLE

you know who you are.

 

 

 

Issuant apples

rise, slice thru night like the wings of a cat

with cottony clouds in place for another morning.

A single sparrow's coryphee

frightens the butterflies to their

hypotenuse that somewhere a sweet

flower waits for thee.

 

And I imagine there's a theory

for the way the dragon trees never miss,

even the bract buildings

arrange and adorn. I had a lover once

who would use my name at the end

of every sentence. Before long

 

I needed it there like a hand placed on the

forearm of the old.

I had learned to forgive; I was perfect.

I stood long,

still as a tree yet you fell thru

me for reasons that warm places are

places you prepare.

 

Crane makes reference of the mystic realm

where you "float in the other world",

not ever impostume by the quiet sun

wistful and lucious

 

on that same night the owls crawled up

my leg like daymares; to have me at the zoo's edge

illuminated suddenly by that satori

make true impermanence,

 

belonging to a place where things self destruct,

the place where silly things you argue the results of;

you're thighs as equally round as sweet.

"Forgive me for the echo of these things",

 

for this cult, Durga

devotion to the female principles

Shaktism, not the unseen world of gods

and demons. For however far you go

 

nothing will ruffle in the wind.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

intriguing title and mystical piece...i am still digesting...but there is beauty in these words...and phrasing that only comes from your pen...

a prolific writer you are, my friend.

"belonging to a place where things self-destruct"

such sadness in that line.

[Corset]

When I saw the title I thought I might run and cry under the bed covers and I am so glad that I braved the read of it, because if there was ever truly an immaculate poem , you would be the poet who just wrote it.