The year of silence coming to an end
my artificial lover joined me on the fevered wheel
to the tune of Tinkers Polka, Plums of Purity,
Under the Double Eagle, When
the White Magnolias Bloom...
Artificial love was in flower
amidst the revolutionary fragments.
I wondered then, do captive griffins roar
in their dreams? The Mosquito Waltz,
Tiger Mourning for Its Shadow...
Far from the real
a day of naked beauty, filtered light.
Do children link their arms as before?
Do they play at rounders, blindman’s buff?
Will the despoilers have it all
to themselves? Even the textured sky?
Xi Chuan, we often ask the same
questions it seems, or is it simply
that together we studied the stars
in Mechanicsville? Orion’s Belt shown,
the Sisters and the Drinking Gourd.
sundered the next.
My artificial lover joined me on time’s wheel
in the painted world.
The birds of the hours
crossed and recrossed
The crowded barques set out.