I had a lysergic epiphany one time
I was small, but my hand was big
my hand knew everything
how to write
and what kind of sex I wanted
my hand was a miracle machine
marching soldiers and an Einstein thumb
get a grip
get a grip on this epiphany
if I had labia
they would be
continually
moist and swollen
anticipating
satori or at least
revelation
like a saint in bondage
a disciple of the fringe
god in my speedos
like an iPod full
of unknown jazz
a vague constellation forms
on the black background
a formula for mythology
Taurus scoffs
and Capricorn shudders
a souffle of galaxies
waits for the story of gods
space is darc as a shopping mall
with franchise solar systems
and coffee at the speed of light
can we emerge, preening like angels?
all chords resolve to latent rapture
Kurds and Way
just a minute
frozen like a fly in amber
It was only a while ago
I remember the day
not a leaf moved on a tree
it was a day for decisions.
only the wise have knives in their hands
sabers of coincidence
and daggers of fate
bare bodkins and Bowie knives
rapiers with microchip decisions
the Claymore descends
a stiletto lubricated
we can bend space and light and time
it's easy enough
the heart accelerates particles,
travels to the past and the future
a miracle in a muscle
it has to do with the beat
and the meat of perpetual motion
an hydraulic engine of emotion
we can bend space and light and time
it's easy enough with slight brain tricks
the proper vegetable incantations and
a rapid internet connection bemused
then just let the hand move.
The Miracle of My Hand
- Lightning Rod
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Sonnet XI
From �� "Fatal Interview"
Not in a silver casket cool with pearls
Or rich with red corundum or with blue,
Locked, and the key withheld, as other girls
Have given their loves, I give my love to you;
Not in a lovers'-knot, not in a ring
Worked in such fashion, and the legend plain--
Semper fidelis, where a secret spring
Kennels a drop of mischief for the brain:
Love in the open hand, no thing but that,
Ungemmed, unhidden, wishing not to hurt,
As one should bring you cowslips in a hat
Swung from the hand, or apples in her skirt,
I bring you, calling out as children do:
"Look what I have! ~~ And these are all for you."
Edna St.Vincent Milla
From �� "Fatal Interview"
Not in a silver casket cool with pearls
Or rich with red corundum or with blue,
Locked, and the key withheld, as other girls
Have given their loves, I give my love to you;
Not in a lovers'-knot, not in a ring
Worked in such fashion, and the legend plain--
Semper fidelis, where a secret spring
Kennels a drop of mischief for the brain:
Love in the open hand, no thing but that,
Ungemmed, unhidden, wishing not to hurt,
As one should bring you cowslips in a hat
Swung from the hand, or apples in her skirt,
I bring you, calling out as children do:
"Look what I have! ~~ And these are all for you."
Edna St.Vincent Milla
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