Outside chance. Night before you register prepare
with pasta party number tag the thigh stretch
marks and faith check readings
while for cross-legged divining heads convene the race
has started: Sunday thousands herd chase
thousands asphalt pounding zone cheering
phone
snaps city quarters exits closed and dark faces half
nude marriages waving from fifth floor boredom
cross the bridge sweat
the fiber winding rush down the park and water
bottle stands a cardboard Go Vincenzo! sign along
the line police watch beaks twitch glance quick
scan stragglers bearded; the clock astronomical hand
counting breath takes right down to micro
seconds reels you like body news fierce fast coming
in
Finally
two stewards beaming, perked up for disclosure,
time stamp your arms wide Welcome.
I've heard nothing beats the credits
scroll: break the tape silence
demons after you ̶ head light
years up flights of stairs ̶ the rest way
beyond what was humanly possible
from nothing random stars chute
open the splash
olive
crown one
winners all.
– W.W.
TO THE EARTH OF INEVITABLE
ASCENSION
I, your partial son, praise the whole of you
as I have praised some brother tree or man, and
hosts of sister grass-ears or bird-tongues, and
our one seed, your spouse, our father the Sun.
Now I admit and honour at last your
rich graveyard of compost and manure of birth,
and so encourage your slow pilgrimage
whose Mecca and Jerusalem will be
not only your own end of starhood but
also the willingness of men to allow
in themselves the seeds of stars, seeds that will
sprout and pulse in harmony with Light's breath.
So now I plant such rhyming seed in you
and sense the receptive ripples of your womb,
and trust such innocent incest shall prove
new husbandry of all our shining fate.
(from "Nor Like An Addict Would" © by Brian Chan)