Mezzaluna. Michele Leggott
suck confusion’s juice
wet ankles tucked-up skirt
prismatic drops in the bucket
on the stolen stele
knock it off
fish it out
2
Common cheap and tender
the pleasure of a purely predatory
recipe, say crawfish étouffée
we were seduced at once by
the little town (no poetry) and thought
what a happy life it would be
only to cultivate white
raspberries (sea also) iced
champagne by the approved method
then go to the Lyric Restaurant
drink solstitial dazzle on the terrace
and order the house specialty
you’ll wait an hour but it will fly
hot dry white wine, bouquet and bouillon
the rifts and the tears are your own
in the interstices of the lobster meat
a rich dark roux from which the bouquet
may be removed They did not in Perpignan
Reading Zukofsky’s 80 Flowers
lavenders blue
roll your eleven weeks onto summer’s late belly and look out
at the world with your black olive eyes
this was promised under the apple tree at Christmas
when you swam in deep pools of picture space nine days out
among the dream polaroids jacaranda diamante
simulacra of before and after
the visceral rub of pōhutukawa in bloom
good established labour the sun going down the Carmel geese
shrieking and flocking the big movie of us coming apart then
waterboatmen on the lake at dawn
and we began the long haul from Recovery nine floors up
to Tranquility a sea a somer-séson
all the pretty little horses pretty things pretty soon
the goodnight fine art getting
the lullaby to work the baby to sleep merrigolds he smiles tell me
another one and the story remembers itself by rhyme settles easily
into songs he likes the made-up rock
and roll the stroller doing its stationary miles in the next room
the two of them the two of us too whacked to
(what??) read proof
quote dear one sweet heart lover unquote air of heaven
half hyphen moon bee time energy colon coffee colon
the feeds the changes the drinks of water the spiders on the cistern
nightlife Horace and Chick Corea at it again
in the lamplight heliotrope splash! mother of thyme stomma cock
mares nest and moonshine wakerobin oh yes
and again and again the all-night frogs go la-di-da-di-dah
to the tune of John Brown’s body
the household gets up at midnight and stirs about
paradise garden I would write you down he said
in a style of leaves growing
eyes curving
toward that question just where do the roses swing
are they pink and blown and warm as sleep
at the gate where lavender works the bees all year round
or red and sweet as tea grown cool because everyone went to check
some story about wind roses you already knew were lining the nest
with scent and bloom and two quarter-view profiles
flickering out of the frame
Boosey & Hawkes
Black & Decker where do we get to
slow nights when the book clears off to Baltimore unimaginable
in the time of tearwater tea and willpower cookies
Hobans Ahlbergs Lobel Wise Brown I Can Read
two wind-ups with outstretched arms and joined hands
dancing around and around the parameters
goor jaggery plums and palm sugar
dates with stratagems the minute hand sweeps away
some things have to be written in later some things
look like porcelain fingers on the coverlet unforgettable
inhabitation the moment hand-painted plaster of pearls
some things to be said for low orbit
cosmos nods
Hippolyte and Cornelia rumble over the picket
which line is his? which hers? moonbeam you smile around
then again it is not night when I see your face thefts modifying
or migrating winging along close to a shelving coast
where the expedition has wandered out of its hinterlands at last
whooping like kids walking on sand dollars at dead low tide
a stone’s throw from the lacewing villas way on out to the channel
sea biscuits cake urchins (placenta to you) walking on the sea bed
the rider in the backpack wants to bite them all
mouthfuls of breast and he doesn’t care if it’s salty
he cries out and when he gets what he wants we’ll be there
Mare Tranquilitum see horse the flowers
Merylyn or Tile Slide or Melete
Tigers