A Vision (Eliot Cardinaux)

  A Vision

That the world is cold,
simply put, I can endure,
but that is not so simple;
fortune, fortune, away,
fate, fate –

melancholy fire,
disentangle these veins
grown thin with time,
disperse these aching limbs in motion –

I am not a foul man,
reaching for the wicked parts of men,
dust that shudders,
settle to the floor;

this ship flying flagrant into night’s eye,
the midnight sun, grows bright, too bright for me to gaze upon.
And none of this will cave
into the sea as ice which dulls

and were it not
what spectacle would haunt this night?
(O galleon of treasures rotten, sunk
amongst the weirdest creatures of the sea.)

                         
                             January 14^th, ’11

For Tuscon

  For Tuscon

Beyond opposites they called it
and he knew,
right away the bluebirds flew.

And in that man he saw a man,
a man! Nothing he would ever do
come crawling up and round
a stick he carried in his hand.

And I looked in his eyes
and felt that evil in my bones.
And I looked at him just rubbing his chin
like a man just contemplating

alligator skin.
And I've seen him walk,
there on the T.V.,
maybe in Zimbabwe, or in any other place

they do that to
one another,
he just walk away and wonder,
"how's it in a man to do

what I seen was in that man to do?
In a man,
in a man,"
He clench his teeth and gone.


                         











Eliot Cardinaux, January 10th, '10