New Poem

Something new I've been working on:

Human of Senseless Fire


Is this the naked best of you?
The craned arch in the foot, continually
denying gravity--the ghostly webs that stretch
from body to body, only seen in a fountaining
silhouette, rippling from your arms
like the rings of a tree. The only prejudice
is the truth you have written in your senses--
the tugging gut, last night's melody whimpered low--
the way back to clattering your teeth
in dandelion greens, to your hand-claps for the naked
best moon, the way of the unkempt, frilled intimacy--
these veins stretch out like the countless roots
of wild fig trees, clutching firmly in the rutty ground.

But here in the raisin-sun mornings like this one
where you sling your song to the streetlamp and leave it,
and swagger your derelict tongue to the road--
you are merely cloth and smoke.