sea o nights!

"The flesh is sad, alas! and I've read all the books. To escape! escape out there! I sense that birds are drunk to be amidst the unknown foam of the skies! – Mallarme, "Sea Wind"











Windswept old prairie today on fire by cloudless heat! So few feel it, hidden as they become underneath desks, behind wheels, lazily on porches chairs stirring cold air as the world works its way across  hours slow like pelicans' wings. Here it is a certain kind of Hades, not punishment of the flesh, but a wave of love that covers this earth, this little blanket of big bluestem and the twitching of the cordial aster. Complaint is so grim a love but so common. I want to jump out of the doors of every building and swim in among the swinging coneflowers and blink eye to eye with the dragonflies and never let the moon hang again its contrived romance, like that woman you once knew, like a theater hand, face bent over the backstage lamplight, a false yellow drop dripping from her rouge nostril.