Wheat Ears-Selected Poems

Goal

And when I finally met my duty

even the poem needed to hide

behind the white page

to vanish between my three fingers

from afar to gaze at the world

and understand its deathlessness

while I stood before my future

a mask on my face and I wondered

why Lucifer mocked me, an adulterer

that I was, numismatic value 

of the flesh, cheap and tarry, made of

straw; my tools for advancement

fed carnivorous beasts

with displayed moustaches

smooth arms heavy and strong

that carried fresh water pitchers

to the hovel wherein I slept lightly

like an evening vesper

whoosh of lapping waves, faint

little black between the virgin’s legs

exquisite mystery that I loved

to the point of no return

and this the duty of my earthly life

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