And I could do that. With blades
or without. Sing along a siren goes.
Doubly human in our concentration.
I could do that & bend it forward.
The Flawed Ones advanced right up
to the mirror into which I looked
for my most essential parts. Done
out of the blessing. Ain’t opting
for the land. But the joke of a book.
You, bright flower of star-hood. You,
arrested with volumes of notes under
your jacket. All that sweet music.
Prepared me for this annunciation.
That winter is an eagle’s blue tendon.
That spring hadn’t stopped trying to
be the smart kid with flashy eyes.
Ready now to walk away from my strong
adequacies and/or to embrace whole
skies of heart-felt gospel giddiness.