Wild geese
where are you going now?
Sweet day not to alight
where the clan of hyenas
drink at sunset.
*
the past is not a foreign country
the past is already my country
for good. A country with no flag
other than laughter and the erect
phallus of an African god.
*
She sprung like a goddess
from the whirling froth
of dream-seascapes
He stepped into her glance
with the randomness
of a fallen card
following the saline fragance
of her vellus hair
She embraced him with a touch
of a dolphin playing around
dissolving him
in the sunblind waves.
*
Etiolated like a daffodil
trodden upon by footfall and rain
I was in a cafe
of the station concourse
but the last glance
she gave me at leaving
became a robin redbreast
in the garden
staring at me with hope.
*
I am a mortal who made love
with a goddess
and must die
and will never know
the goddess'name.
*
Don't bite again
the wrong side of the apple
-said the Sphinx squatted
in the middle of a vast desert
among the italianate ruins
of my mind
A sandstorm coating
her lion-wise head
*
The dogs scenting me.
I am already a wolf.
Maybe the moon.
*
like Anaxagoras I point to the stars
as my native home
even beyond the dark matter
*
All day long
I've been smelling deep
the moonshiny aroma
of jasmine trellises.
All night long
I've been smelling deep
the jasmined aroma
of the moonlight.
*
Odd times
I write to God
and she replies to me
in form of dancing cranes.
