One bakes and waits in the roisterous sun Tapping out universal time with a particular foot, A principle shoe, worn leathers unable to reflect The merest shard of all that solar crisis 5 Burning in the sky and in the apperceiving chest Like boxed jewels winking out of showiest velvets. One waits for the desert to be done with itself For the holy sequoias to drop their arms, 10 One more martyr, torn down by storms, Reduced by the sun to one skull of dreams Throwing one more shadow away from the hill Like a river that flows out of the mind at last. 15 This earth of cakes and sweet excrescences Lets us eat the loam, lick saccharin sands From our lips, taste smeared blazons of cotton candy, Raspberry and chocolate, the florid saps We bite from the tree, laden with glistering fruits 20 We ourselves have made, and ripened in each eye.
From the collection "Constellations in December"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.