April 13, 2016/May 1, 2016

The speech of whales
like intentional metaphors
for otherness

A flash of orange
intense as the flavor of groves in the sunlight

I have known groves
Grove Street all the way from the dentist’s office
down to the Oranges
Like the flash of a sari
or a necklace of velvet soft marigolds
offered up by a sweet-voiced girl
with chestnut eyes
amidst the eternal ruins of Kajuraho
and now she’s a dentist
beloved of children
who’ve all gone home
while she turns the glossy pages
of National Geographic
in the high stone tower
of my dream this night
wind-whipped ravens
cawing across the living quilt
in the wind, yet not of it
erected stone by heavy stone
by men of the earth
sturdy dwarves of the bowels
whose brothers fashion
tools and jewels
in the dripping, dank dark
while I sit,
wind whipping through remembered hair,
dreaming of echoing cries

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