little song
March 2025
stars lilithed in car horns
i tried to forget you
my cellphone wire sang of a stalemate
and i hid a pulsing light under a book cover
four concurrent windows
made me think
of fascist architecture, which made me hope that i could get around it
to see you stand before me in all your
vivifying question marks: you were so much
the sun when you thought or asked in space that the angels used you
as a barrel fire on cold nights (even
angels get cold, angels
are all homeless /angelic work being
on the road).
what was the little gray foal doing now
for two whole seconds
i thought of nothing else (/an elation of forgetting\)
then i remembered that the foal was god’s
metaphor
for you. or that the foal was in my life at all because
god wanted me to have a metaphor for a relationship
in my backyard that was not as close
as i wanted. and to show me what impatience looks like
in a horse’s hoof.
and also to permit me to meditate
on the fact that a foal is simultaneously growing and fully
self-realized. and also because i’d asked for more
animal friendships. and also because
i’d had so many dreams about little gray foals.
✳