An attempt to transpose two distinct events into a single anecdote...
into heavenly sparkle
Chinese New Year—grey dust
of whale bone whiteness
quarantined into discrete
isolation—
a procession of monks
traverses the long-arrowed
stone groin of granite chinked mountain,
as air secreted in tiny bubbles
hovers around exotic plants
breathing in the solitude
of small stones shaking
through colossal night thunder...
One big-horn sheep
squatting at an impossible angle
across the shoulder of the mountain,
its udders vibrating,
rhythmically chews
a small-pendant hibiscus-leaf
grazing the intrepid reaching arms
of a Joshua tree.
We are not alone in this dream—
this shadow of garrulous
wooded tangles arising
from the spectrum of foliage
slowly stretching
into complex undergrowth
above melting spring snowpack.
This matte painting has
revealed itself
to be the outer rim
of a soot-covered
window;
shouting and the noise of taxi-cabs
as I awaken drymouthed
New York City.
Laughing soft hangover.
Summer 1991.
JZRothstein gettingintolate Spring 2012
Poetry by Jeffrey Z Rothstein
Read 591 times
Written on 2013-09-30 at 18:36
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A Skyward prayer flung conspicuous
A skyward prayer flung conspicuousinto heavenly sparkle
Chinese New Year—grey dust
of whale bone whiteness
quarantined into discrete
isolation—
a procession of monks
traverses the long-arrowed
stone groin of granite chinked mountain,
as air secreted in tiny bubbles
hovers around exotic plants
breathing in the solitude
of small stones shaking
through colossal night thunder...
One big-horn sheep
squatting at an impossible angle
across the shoulder of the mountain,
its udders vibrating,
rhythmically chews
a small-pendant hibiscus-leaf
grazing the intrepid reaching arms
of a Joshua tree.
We are not alone in this dream—
this shadow of garrulous
wooded tangles arising
from the spectrum of foliage
slowly stretching
into complex undergrowth
above melting spring snowpack.
This matte painting has
revealed itself
to be the outer rim
of a soot-covered
window;
shouting and the noise of taxi-cabs
as I awaken drymouthed
New York City.
Laughing soft hangover.
Summer 1991.
JZRothstein gettingintolate Spring 2012
Poetry by Jeffrey Z Rothstein
Read 591 times
Written on 2013-09-30 at 18:36
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Brian Oarr |
