The Fractured Egg #3

the perpetual lovers (gustave moreau & his model/lover)

– for ghibellino

the moss-covered cross
a remnant of you / a now unknown grave
risen & gone never to return again
no matter how hard some believe
& i, enraptured by your arrival
seeing this tomb / the tome / this town
in your hands – making the search

he was buried in the same grave twice
rather 2 different graves
his lover rather – a stolen vault – now identical initials
another secret alphabet kidnapped
another name
yet the same illegitimacy / the pre-nom
his only lover – eternal love – the same principal
the same calligraphy – an opinion – not a fact
no real proof – an earlier death
the scent of body odor – interned like jesus
his body stolen – removed – resurrected
reunited with his lover – her name his crest
his design tattooed in mist on her flesh
her bones – her soul

the storyteller reminds us that this is only a story
[[[[[[[[[[like his own name ]]]]]]]]]]
but that’s another story to cross
another urn to be filled
pilfered – stolen – overturned

our ghosts reside in the hotel of noble existence
& the lovers exist in a painting long disappeared
odd to speculate
normal to imagine or believe
the flame now black – but still decidedly burning.

-Montmartre cemetery paris September 2014

the photos of Roy De Carava @ MoMA – Jam Session

2 boys          talking
2 shadow lights
we dark hats             hanging from the sky
hotel
speaking street
sitting on corner bench
a couple talking
a subway window
hung with shovels
& moist with hallways
of ketchup
battles
my self-portrait a gaping hole
my graduation from this
intersection

from my adolescence then to my adolescence now

woman – you are my kitchen
i am man baby
stove there in
sewing   stairwells

i cook lightshadows

2 talking us smiling not smiling at tables
you are my pot
i am the stew there in
dancing wet branches

are shoulders laughing

embrace shadowlight

without convention

remaining nameless
balloons

i sell you me half/man

/half/man

½ mannequin

scarf half-wrapped
such eggs
eyebrows fruit sack
fruit
such hands

you leave again & again I wish that you would never return

such returns
such hands

a couple of shadow & light
staring
talking
dancing
smiling
half-scarfed

(kissing?)

walking
clasping

hands

counting stripes

wearing gloves
removing gloves
putting hands in pockets
white shadows
darklight
counting stripes
lying down
counting steps
you & i

out of order

daily

trees

resting

why do you

did you

(why did she leave her baby in a tree) ?

mirror split

sun

strolling

advertisements

why did you call?

why did you lock me in the phone booth?

atoms of energy
we talk
you
myself

the action of words

walls
arms
the strong session of jamming into us.

dancing dark cardboard.

garments between friends.

out of fashion
steamers.

sandals

forced shouting freedom
across the
picket.

sun & shade

way up on the silver
fence / we are the tool of color & light
we are the memories that we contain