Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime, that green mama who first forced me to sing, who put me first in the latrine, that pantomime of brown where I was beggar and she was king? I said, "The devil is down that festering hole." Then he bit me in the buttocks and took over my soul. Fire woman, you of the ancient flame, you of the Bunsen burner, you of the candle, you of the blast furnace, you of the barbecue, you of the fierce solar energy, Mademoiselle, take some ice, take come snow, take a month of rain and you would gutter in the dark, cracking up your brain.
Mother of fire, let me stand at your devouring gate as the sun dies in your arms and you loosen it's terrible weight.
Thomas Lux:
A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend holding his legs?) with spray paint to write the words on a girder fifty feet above a highway. And his beloved, the next morning driving to work...? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she recognize his handwriting? Did he hint to her at her doorstep the night before of "something special, darling, tomorrow"? And did he call her at work expecting her to faint with delight at his celebration of her, his passion, his risk? She will know I love her now, the world will know my love for her! A man risked his life to write the world. Love is like this at the bone, we hope, love is like this, Sweatheart, all sore and dumb and dangerous, ignited, blessed--always, regardless, no exceptions, always in blazing matters like these: blessed.
And my homeboy, J.K. Baxter:
High Country Weather
Alone we are born And die alone Yet see the red-gold cirrus Over snow-mountain shine.
Upon the upload road Ride easy, stranger. Surrender to the sky Your heart of anger.
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Date: 2006-02-22 07:02 am (UTC)1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALS
Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime,
that green mama who first forced me to sing,
who put me first in the latrine, that pantomime
of brown where I was beggar and she was king?
I said, "The devil is down that festering hole."
Then he bit me in the buttocks and took over my soul.
Fire woman, you of the ancient flame, you
of the Bunsen burner, you of the candle,
you of the blast furnace, you of the barbecue,
you of the fierce solar energy, Mademoiselle,
take some ice, take come snow, take a month of rain
and you would gutter in the dark, cracking up your brain.
Mother of fire, let me stand at your devouring gate
as the sun dies in your arms and you loosen it's terrible weight.
Thomas Lux:
A man risked his life to write the words.
A man hung upside down (an idiot friend
holding his legs?) with spray paint
to write the words on a girder fifty feet above
a highway. And his beloved,
the next morning driving to work...?
His words are not (meant to be) so unique.
Does she recognize his handwriting?
Did he hint to her at her doorstep the night before
of "something special, darling, tomorrow"?
And did he call her at work
expecting her to faint with delight
at his celebration of her, his passion, his risk?
She will know I love her now,
the world will know my love for her!
A man risked his life to write the world.
Love is like this at the bone, we hope, love
is like this, Sweatheart, all sore and dumb
and dangerous, ignited, blessed--always,
regardless, no exceptions,
always in blazing matters like these: blessed.
And my homeboy, J.K. Baxter:
High Country Weather
Alone we are born
And die alone
Yet see the red-gold cirrus
Over snow-mountain shine.
Upon the upload road
Ride easy, stranger.
Surrender to the sky
Your heart of anger.