DELTA

Heretofore tell how in grief
The balloons went up,
The roses opened,
The prophet’s eye shut,
How before daybreak
The light unleashed,
Entered the quill,
Wanting to write of where
The river went out of shadows
And so touched
The high note that calls
The dead wick of Ra’s
Hidden word that opens
To the end of times.

 
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ENIGMA

It begins as it always begins when the mind has blown itself astray, below the bruised ashtray of New York, New York headlines where– at the top of a Bushwick Fire Escape as a matter of fact– a pigeon pecks at his post, at a... Continue →