Lunacy as an Equivalency of Enlightenment
I’m plugged into all manner of things,
living out my angel crossing roads
in Buenos Aires, if that’s what it takes.
Once 3D & singular, I scoop the radiance
from corduroy, dip honey cakes for sensitive
bear paws, quite possibly galactic poetic,
or jauntily multi-dimensional.
Easy for me to talk after our
oxygen tryst & the way you fashion
filaments for my brain, as if the double helix
were a joke among sex addicts, an imaginary
nest for atomic coitus.
Three very important things happened to me this week:
1. I met you.
2. I saw an ET going into a pub.
3. I conceived of my own cosmic identity.
But then there are major differences between me
& the guy who jabbers to himself &
plays the harmonica
while coffee is drunk around the clock in Starbucks.
You might call it authority, the need to pray,
the ability to define dissolution using quasi-scientific
terminology — & really I’m lucky to fit in
when I extend so universally past the holidays.
Without you I’m binary, fleshless, a fixed date
for the end of the world.
Wrap me in the whiteness of the full moon
as I shift between pronouns like a prize winning
cyclist — & don’t let me reduce my protein intake
until the Royals are finally found to be reptilian.
I’ll meet you tomorrow, under the arch of a
vaudevillian health scare.
The Longing, the Pull, the Magnetic Attraction
Stephen Nelson's latest books are Lunar Poems for New Religions (Knives, Forks and Spoons Press), YesYesY (Little Red Leaves Textile Series) and the free ebook EYE JAR (Red Ceilings Press). For the moment, he is a happy panentheist. Check out his blog at www.afterlights.blogspot.com.
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