Main-à-Dieu
I.
The Maritime epitome
leaks sensational exchanges
between moon magnets at play
Telephones open your eyes
Remember sweet nothings
stumbling shy and evasive on shore
and spraying its stones with cobalt kisses
‘ere tucking it in with the tides
II.
Without having consciously channeled
the Scottish mind for gesticulations
or affable sense of fashion
the hairs on my frame oscillate
in the unitary itch of a synthesis
Clouds shuffle in and shower me
with quaint accents
of Lambert and Connery
Dad’s origami of tape
in the Highlander VHS shell
A kind of magic
III.
Lock on and scoop up
the small islands swimming
like virtual pets in the jittery wilderness
of the ocean
Up the road the wharves exhale
eager to recast their splintered designs
on the ship-mother gut of Mira River
A blessing awaits its suitors
cruising in fresh paint
smoking Cape Islander uniforms
Water on water
recovers the fleet
to out-see the ragged red
floor denizens again
IV.
Old is alive
Small is endurable
Fishermen of a place old and small
are sponge toys under this sky’s
humdrum faucet drip
V.
Sample the pond in the womb of the meadow
Filter the fertile Atlantic stream for its insular
rock jewel
Let the screens show and suggest
that highlander fishermen still live here
Highlander could have been lived here
—–
BIRTH OF AN ALCHEMIST
Teacher there are toothless
piranhas
swimming in my math
I can see the gummy
little jaws scheming
to bogart the breath
of my righteous integers
One can only solemnize so much
the rash double-booking
of funeral and festival
No initiative need
be exhausted
on a self-serving verification
As a man of words
I implore you
to pad your own occupation with your wares
as I plunge a thumb and forefinger
into this obtuse order
of operations and unveil
a morsel of insurgent fusion
for my impressionable stomach
—–
LINGO DROUGHTS
I.
Notify the pillars of the patriation
Apply the secret knock
to your underground interpreter’s door
We are older than before
We have shed the preface training wheels
and are coming for the polish
of your most climactic chapter’s respect
II.
No unveiling revelation cloned itself
in self-assuring day planner pages
nor did debonair winks of rhetoric
attain attention for the eyes
while our secret sign language
seared a path through the brush
sapped of moisture’s ink by youth
infused lingo droughts
III.
We are what an appetite looks like
Invisibility made visible
with the couture of the inevitable
reincarnating as the natty trends
your acronyms cannot keep up with
—-