Chrysogonus, and land and me
I’m on a plane above a
lot of brown and blue
reading Santosa
for you
little knowing, like I
do
what exists beyond
the places sacred to
my own - we dwell
in pity love
exasperation
of the struggles
of our homes
some days
it takes limbo
in the air unshackled
a dart
to change the course
between two rivers
anything is
here
one side of the aisle
this Russian
gangster hair a
hedgehog brush
of brindle salty grey
his
wife a sticky nervy
bird
subsets of impending
drama
surround
impend
upon the meth labs
the rehabs
the love lands
below
descending in real
time the
contents of this
tube shift resettle
whatever deal made with
gravity
before the grace of
flight
enfolded us
suspended us
up
between the rivers
we
afar in concert
be
Kerri!! This is empowering
ReplyDeleteThank you so much :)
You are welcome. I was reading you and then Wajah-Wajah Jawa, as I feel bad about not knowing enough to be truly helpful, and this was the result of this intersection between us. I am glad you like it.
Deleteback home now, Kerri?
ReplyDeleteI look forward to Chrys's reply-in-poetry to this!
I am home again, and I flew over your place on the way in and tried to check that the roof is still on. Yes I am too!
Deletethis is an amazing poem
ReplyDeleteThat's so good, Kerri!
ReplyDelete