Mephisto 5
I AM A GOD WITH A HUGE FACE. Lions
and eagles pour out of my mouth. Big white
square teeth and a red-purple tongue. There are
magenta clouds around my head and this
is my throne room where I
change opals into souls
in a spark of alchemy.
Only a fool is impartial
to cool mist
on the face on a brisk walk
through the canyon. – Sometimes passed
in semi-darkness by a biker
or
a car
delivering the papers.
AN
ORDINARY DAY
in Paradiso with clouds
of angels making a rose.
Smell of wet humus
over the rostrum of lichens.
We are ‘safe in Heaven dead’
and the drone planes do not film
our home for the watchers
near Denver.
Mephisto 6
SOMBREROS THE COLOUR OF CHILDREN’S
COOKIES. Colourlessness at the edges
of things. – Radiances of blue-silver
roll through consciousness
past the precipice of protein and quarks.
The silk scarf is sleek
on
the
neck
– greens and reds melt into sienna.
ART
DISAPPEARS
in department store limbo.
I am always here on this rock
ESCARPMENT
eating a sandwich with you,
watching mist tufts rise
from the ravines.
When you are angry
MY
CHEST,
these ribs,
lock together into stone
and there’s the smell
of the smoke
of feathers burning.
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