TO SOAR BEYOND SIGHT OF DEITIES

I

Too complex is, too complex stay –
can you live in our midst,
but transitorily?

Comes the moon in silver cloth:
cold, stern in winter.

An allegory, allegedly, on life
and death in freezing
paragraphs.

And parables.

Invocations to an all-seeing
eye. Curses in the
current of our
times.

II

Too composite, too compound lay –
can you fuse in that box,
but ephemerally?

Draws the Queen in gray garments:
rows, rut, attention.

Symbolically, supposedly, of force
and strength in glacial
epitaphs.

And epithets.

Incantations, omniscient
sights. Blights of the
beehives being
lives.

III

All this and more, it soars, rockets
and roams off-sight of
deities.

The more transiently, will science
be able; be able to know pace
and peace apart?

This channel, mouthpiece
of impeded
smoke.

What else a goddess in
despair reacts to?

One can not draw
her shield down
in distress.

IV

Now Cody-Lynn,
Athena, go down
rapidly. For lick
nor luck shoot
up in cloak.

Who put this
dagger in,
strong
coeur
sacré?

Coin them the princes:
‘Pollinaire and
Mallarmé.

V

Before the bomb
shell anthems’
loss, slash
athame.

The glow like
dark moon,
stepping
stone.

Be what it
may.

Month,
monde.

M.J.C.A. 21-12-2006