Archives for October 2012
For Jobe and Webb
…in all that he does he prospers.
I dance before invisible design
To find the world a rolling ball of shit
But make its mother lode of singing mine.
My feet would stamp and tamp, a tambourine
To shake the stars and make them answer what
I dance before invisible design.
The wicked walk and sinners’ stand define
What never moves. While silly scoffers sit
I make a mother lode of singing mine.
Conspire and plot beneath the sun in vain,
But purest action knows I roll with it.
I dance my own invisible design.
My feats may never meet the bottom line,
But tracing closely Eden’s rising plot
I make its mother lode of singing mine.
Let Sisyphus see toil’s anodyne
As nothing more than bloody sweat and spit –
I dance for You, invisible design,
And make your mother lode of singing mine.
So after summer, autumn makes a feint
To still an afternoon of naked trees
With tensile strength. It only fools the saint –
For we have felt the elemental breeze
That captivates the stripping act of leaves –
The ballets twirl in a furious mess.
From limbs to trunk to crotch, the plumage heaves
Its skirts like virgins dropping out of dress.
Upon the wind, the equinox enjoys
The swelling spheres of music. Perfect curves
Are tilting earthward, baring shoulders – toys
Of sun and shade. The failing daylight starves
Toward solstice – leaves the hungry eye no choice
But feasting on the famine it deserves.