Orpheus in Morgantown
PART 1
I WALK UPON YOUR UPTURNED HANDS
I cannot burn slowly
enough
in
this
dark hole of days
that
gives way
beneath
me
I fall asleep
to the sound of
rain and televisions
0
what is this world
where
your
tears gleam
in the pure
darkness of wishes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10,000 yellow berries
are the suns
of oblivion
in
this echo and glass
0 winter and sciencefiction
under
your suicidal skies
I still await that silver river
of
galaxies
your
tears have made
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a lamp in a distant room
your hands
there
deep in the world
of
pages
your television face flickering
and
your mannequin thighs
repeated endlessly
in the magnitudes
of
these
Sundays
billions of years
glittering
here
under childlike clouds
and drawings
a yellow leaf on the concrete
porch
a figment of bliss
like
your beautiful head
perfect moon in a perfect sky
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dreams
in the afternoon
of
wrens and pierrots
a woman of cinnamon
and
snow
lunar and endless
like scenes
from movies
that appear unbidden
in the head
or
the cold light of poems
before
dawn
written in the heartless
solitude
of a hermit's
screaming
hands
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
of
mirrors
draped in starlight
and
the violet
of
your naked shoulders
most beautiful
stomach
shock of thighs and
butterflies of cleavage
such
thoughts
when old flesh
dances beneath strange
skies
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
after so many
dry
moons
I will
drink down this
starwine
of silverthighed nights
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pages
of birds
asleep
in the wind
afternoon's impenetrable years
drunk on silver
letters from the moon
to mercury
and golden arms forever
Sundays
speeding to zero
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
chrome rain
and
a glass of stars
rhymes
of swift skies
brief empires
of
gyroscopes
and
purple towers
your hand still echoes
in
my
sleep
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
0
skirts in my brain
under you
I
see the unbearable
darkwithindark sweetness
I
walk
on stick
legs
to the ruby sun
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I land amidst burdock
and
your unfuckable flesh
I follow your salt
thighs
and vinegar breasts
I eat thistle and
moonseed
I
cut off my hands
and
raise the gushing
stumps
to the galaxies
in praise of
you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
who I'm waiting
for
the
girl from the
stars
lifting
her black chiffon skirt
to
show me
all of this
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
between
scraps of breath
and
weekends
still living hours
of
light-
ago
running from the kitchen
to
the notebooks
all around me
sticks of silver dancing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cold and empty
Sundays
watching
through
the hole of poems
hair and words
mingle
with shadow
and
syntax
like paper cutouts
of
her
all the way to the moon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
grey frozen world
of your eyes
through
cold black windows
a glimmer
of
skin falling
over
every
thing
such
brief being ness
yet
a taste of forever
a
thousand years
between words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
honey
and grasshoppers
and
dried pharoahs
on the windowsill
books of dust
buried
under
tons of light
henna
and hashish
a
cyanide jar
for
memories
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your
skin's
crusht
diamonds
your
face's
oval
burning
an endless
flower
of astonishment
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
mutterings
at the snow-
crack
where
this sleet
overcame
spoke to
shadows
of
sexless astronauts
cloning
themselves
into
Circe's echoes
portals
and
thresholds
remain
as antechambers
to the crush
of
continuous
flash-
backs
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tasting
still
the lime of your thighs
I
walk the endless blue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a burnout
a cinder
moon
remains of a
vision
the bitter blistering
in
beds of winter
I lay my
icicle bones
down
all the beautiful girls
of
Sunday
turned
to ash inside me
the keys
to sleep
and
poetry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your blood is sweet
upon the skies
your tears burn down
the night
ill stars gather
light sinks in
no breath
but words
of naked ice
still spike
the heels
of Venus
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
getting up into
these
early Sunday mornings
long cowls of snow
buried
deep
where the ghost of sex
still
howls
a
mouth of salt
a
tumor of roses
a
black
moon calling
with
silver lips like
machine faces
smiling and
going
down
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
through holes of light
your hands
come
touch
this
glass
face
touch
these remains
of
sound and windows
I
weep gold ink
for
you and Lyra
for
you and my head
forever floating
down
this cold black river
into
Pluto's heart
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cold-time
always is
different
from cell to
cell
a
billion sparkling snow-suns
traversing
ancient shadows and manuscripts
oracles
and
miracles
rippling
inward
in imaginary rooms
under
imaginary skies
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your eyes I
crown with
blue planets
I scaffold
around you
sentences
of crystal
and crumpled
lace to
your feet
darkdust
fallen
curled there
me licking
the golden
cat of
poetry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
twilights
bring
pink
to read you by
a face like
a lamp
deep
in silk rooms
between words
what is there
to do
between
thighs
evening snow
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ice whispers around
glass wings
tissue of
dark rain
inside
an endless
harbor
of silver
and purple
my streets fell to
the poem is
morning
her atmosphere
once gryphons
carried us
yes
they did
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cold arm of light
white crest of days
ice and bone remain to sing
lungs and weeds frozen
pleasures come moment by moment
like the scents of patchouli and pussy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I awoke dancing
in the silver robes of
middle age
I saw the redlipped mouth
of Death opening
to go down on me at last
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
disappearing
into
the folds
of
minutes
a mothmaiden's
world
where lunar poems
float
on echoes
from the future
under
psychedelic skies
weekends
of
sleeping
and writing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a leaf a
cough
bitters of
blood
and rose
like shredded
velvet
hard
mornings'
rasp
of
mink and
burlap
Sunday"s years
inhaled
mint
and
rain
after
taste
of
sleep
and
ballerina
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
not a poet
a
poem
always between
words
already
forgotten
across
the room
your
hair
singing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
on
Earth-
sundays
long mornings
stretch cat
like
all
coffee and flesh
I stare for hours
through
pewter
windows
mind
of
snow
and your shadow
like
silver
fur
rippling
across Time
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tears of mercury
and lust
poems and hair
sparkling
the rush of ornaments
one
poem
after
another
tangerine
sun
the dance
of
still-
ness,
green tea,
red
lips
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
black fields
sleeps and moons
female
sounds always
strange and faint
like
rain
on the weekend
snows
her undulance
opens
the gates
to lutes and
lowered
voices
toys of sugar
woodcuts
of
birds and
spaceships
she is poised
on
one toe
forever
in
this narcosis
of
eros
and
iced-over rivers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THIS LYRE
of
shadows
furnaces
tablelegs
calla lilies vulvas moths
a half century of dust
and manias
bedrooms bathrooms porches
owls
books
rain
between work and seizures
a feast of ice
and musicboxes
stillness
leprosy
gyroscopes
I stare out
into
this hole the world
thrusting at stars
streets
strophes
suicide
lace fur fountains
deep stain of light
and
wine
furrows and robots
roses and wishes
in flight
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
these
poems of coffee
and
snow
for the mannequins
a
flash of dust
a long long walk
to
your shadow
at
the end of all
Sundays
and
your hair
Eurydice your hair
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PART 2
CHOCOLATES FOR EURYDICE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dark are the mornings here
where i once licked your starry skin
dark are the mornings here forever
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the elegance of a wrist
in passing
an ivory blur
a mannequin eye
her lips were red
the truth is red
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
amber combs
are
radiant
under
the black orchid sun
and
the
human streets
you cannot see
are
almost pink
i
follow your
sparking hair
deeper
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
poems
brief
breath
candlelight
on
sleeps' skin
an
isolate cry
of
image
over snow-
abysses
symbols of no-
color
bitter crash
still heart
full
of
stars
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i follow
the
blue suns
pear
floating
in a bottle
of
brandy
infinite
shoji panels
inside
you
am intimate
only
with the im-
possible
i am
a book of snow
in
the mirror
of
your hands
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
face
to face
with hell's
Sundays
this
glitter of cold
spirals
the powder of silver
roses
gowns of snowy
pine
i
want
to kiss
your knees
and
hymn you
with
toys and candy
all the days
of
your
life
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
streets
turn
to
cold black sticks
of ash
i
fall through them
past
a million ruby lamps
and
women half
moth
sliding
from
cocoons of glass
your
face on
all
of
them
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
awaken
to coffee and
snow
long ago
you
were
still
with me
now
i break
like
mica
and join
the
moths
in their
dust
the
mannequins
in
their
silence
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
on
frozen mondays
strange
reveries of
lyres
when gold leaves
and
bells
surrounded you
in
your
jewelled sleeps
now
i
am
lost
amidst these
unending
firefountains
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
at lunch
i dream your pearflesh
thighs
silver eyes
of sleep opening
a rosered mouth
a black shot
glass full of moon
vodka
in this nulltime
i taste
the poem's cullet
where i come from
there are many worlds
this is not one of them
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
at these dying shores
through
this
halo of skies
your
voice
so far
broken
into
a million
echoes
almost
my
name
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
letters
ache to burst like
ice
inside a sun
cinder-storms pass
through
me
like broken moth
legs
0
poems of lost grace
i
bury
you in moondust
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
mauve pears
blue pomegranates
silver candles
pheasant-colored
hair
and cinnamon lips
burning
in the orange moonlight
you lift one leg
straight up
and turn
round and round
in this glass of wine
i pour
and pour
into the holes of my eyes
how this world misses you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
inch by inch
you sank
into
foam and blue light
the
strange innocence of sleep
then
gone
so long ago
my kingdoms and centuries
passed
now
all your sweet bones
are
a golden music
in the ice-colored
minds of the dead
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
from this hushed high place
i look straight through
a hundred naked yards
of amber velvet
glistening with crickets
of light
to the empty town
shimmering with opal glitter
i wander
the infinite rooms
of these evenings
drinking diamonds
from a cup
of golden porcelain
thinking how
the beauty
of just one
of your fingertips
puts all this to shame
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hours of hypnos and rain
in days of water-color and steel
0 tears of dark sleet
you are my lullabye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i empty books
into
your flesh
in
ever stranger hours
between lamp and light
a
heavy grey sun
thrashing
in
beds and poems
sepia
blood trickles
from
the world
hold me there
between
your
legs of dust
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
before light
behind
your eyes
the shadows and noises
ice and night's
silk
dreaming
a cloud of silver
particles
filling the dark
room
cold mirrors
of
a million diamonds
between
the moon and your face
flashing
you hold all the mysteries
of
flesh and verse
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
on the other
side
of the clock
shivering
alone on a winter porch
i
claim it all
for
myself
stars, poems, your mouth
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
long nights
long
thoughts, sleek
legs
hours deep in red smoke
and narcosis
infinite
mouth, silken smile
blue
gown of sky
traces
of Saturday, faint
sun
chrysalid of flesh
stockings, books, childhood
on
the couch
i pull it up
all
around me
and sleep
halfwaybetween
earth's stars and
your
buried
eyes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your
pearl-powder skin
makes
my head spin
i dream of you
only
halfawake half
dead
on Sundays
still
weaving
our infinite
tomorrows
to hold your name
you
look up
through sheets
of
burning glass
to me
drooling
in
my sleep, muttering
something about
poems
and
silver panties
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
lips
aglow with stardrops
adrift
between moons and words
a
golden
clone
of you
steps through a doorway
offering
the cup
of streets
i drink
deeply
from this dead river
and
strip
the poems
until they have no flesh
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
like a moongrey cat
you cross
these unblemished pages
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you're glass
like trees
crushed beneath me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i breathe on frozen ink
to
awaken
lilies of snow
in your skin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
when your face dawns
i
am crazed
with
poetry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i want only
the pure stark silver
of your wintry fires,
the imperial fuck
of a last love's exquisite
knowledge of itself
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PART 3
THE DEAD LYRE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am morning's idiot
drooling dew
blinded by
the golden moss
of winter nymphs
wandering halfasleep
from room to room
hallucinating
basilisks and
moondrakes
and
a
naked poetess
who feeds me
stanzas
mouth to mouth
I walk
through light
years of cold amber
to see
a flash of red
stocking
I fall
from blackout to
blackout
looking
for childhood's
magic toys
I am evening's fool
my head keeps spinning
to the whirligig
music
of
these crumbling streets
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
there is no company
here
in the streets of this hoary
star
I am old and un
spent
bent
to my idiogrammes
cryptoids and perfumed
erototropes
my trilling
is sewn to your
image
in evenings
head to head
with endless
pages
until dead crows
and ancient
nymphs
fall out
and orange
blood flows
from
fountains of flesh
I find
between your
words
sublime strangeness remains
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
in the season
of darkest comas
I will tell you
of the stars
and of summers
passing
in their golden
gowns
and of
the blaze of mornings
that will fall like
orange dust
at the feet of evening
until the end of the week
at least
when it will all be gone
but
these beautiful fragments
"the mouth seeks anything close to light
the moth seeks anything close to flesh"
eyelash
nape
the dark line
where closed lips meet
skin
petal
the sound
of willow leaves
chiming
like the words
your ghostly throat swallows
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I keep walking
I want to get to her
where she haunts me most
"thorns and candles and
a necklace of canticles"
from morning to morning
the nights
flash by
enfolded in afternoons
of
mirrors
I keep walking
into jewels and astonishments
tapestries of kingfishers
and green herons
"a long dress of snow"
in these
silver years
in a ship of gossamer
I want to give her
bells and pears
and all these spastic pages
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your body
drenched
in dream-
silver
and old
rose
quivering
like a lily petal
tongued
by
one drop of rain
closer come
sit by this lamp
with me
I will feed
you poems mouth
to mouth
"hills and gulphs, galaxies and glyphs,
ambrosial strophes"
siren
of mint
and lime
I can still taste you
along furrows of snow
in the deep wind
of these
alleys
so doll
like
still
your beauty
makes me throw roses at the moon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
back from the day
0
my
dark
Earth
a cup of bleak tea
awaits
I am skinned alive
the
sky
itself
has been gutted
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
it was
you
after all
wrote all my songs
is that your
head
in
my lap
Eurydice
or
mine
?