Stan Mir

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THE LACUSTRINE SUITE

 

 

             “A market of bacilli large in the breeze.”

–Anonymous

 

                         1.

In the Lacustrine Period where all we did was swim I knew

you had a shrapnel heart rusting in your chest held

together by pins. Canaries spun in the shallows.

 

Goggle-faced, bright blurs were your eyes. Fortunate

fins. I was five phantoms deep. Stars mutilate

the heavens as birds move ancient and hope to coup.

 

The myth of you is true: rising, like a totem, your side

pierced, all this color and belief from the harpoon’s

wound, oxygen in your gills with a beak.

 

                         2.

There is something happy about apocalypse,

the world-combed roughage

of cars, a tender abdomen skyline evacuates.

There’s some thing an end wants

so much as to destroy the daily husk:

 

Ensconced, 1616, in the Narragansett blood,

Small Pox set their pores sailing.

Decimated bodies riddle the veranda of the New

England shore. Cranberries

rising in the dermis, some breaking

 

fully into blossom. The anemic president

gesticulates Africa, “The struggle yours,

cash nowhere to be found.” I, a shadow, saw

in the sand continental collapse.

 

                         3.

Age 2, encephalitic, tremor in the trees,

my brain swollen, numberless, abstract.

In the diction of paradise beg it be

Nothing             Nothing            Nothing

 

To the times I’ve pushed my nose, watch

news scroll, savage servility, still greased,

slides by, offends cloister-sight, it dilates,

a visible darkness floods this shallow hole.

 

The offer on the market: Yellow Rain on everyone’s

house. Eyes, doctors orders, brought

by injection, blue.

                         *

Arrest.

             Pulmonary Rain.

             Reification.

                         *

An undiscovered anagram denotes an end to what

we thought had begun with disobedience.

 

                         4.

I must shroff into parts, lest the officials

catch on, my  wings, be they false, my wings,

be they genuine, are they not the ones your

accomplices sent for, they fail only when a bird

is struck from the bough by the fraudulent

carnivals of our heads, never when a ferris wheel

rolls anxiously on do we stop counting for the day

to be done, I cradle the charges my vision is

failed in the pouch beneath my beak, the correspondence

says I am free, says I am captive, private and

property in the banks of the lake.

 

                         5.

Boats, ballast, birds. Birds. Ballast. Boats. We have boats, no ballast. Birds

burning in the wood. Wormwood and echo in throats. Fever’s

effigy placed in the bow we cast this canoe burning.

 

                         6.

I, disguised as your mouth. Watch, I

organize your feelings. Success in circuit

lies.                    Row, Row my Boat

             In the yard flags fluctuate. Stalagmites

             & -tites. Variably, I have said who

             I am, who did this construction.

 

             Fever. Whoever it was was Fever,

             a carnival, a seizure. Whatever

a vacuum is it holds what it likes.

 

Like the lady holding the moon by its

strings. I’ve forgotten the rime. Sailor:

 

7.

Dear Birds,                                                         Winter

On my best days I see Disease as a street-bound

yellow flower, which regrets. Somewhere Pacific the

canoe becomes ashen, extrapolates. Fever equips

himself with gills, takes a bow, & moves his cabaret

into the sea. Encore! Encore! Then your beaks

harpoon the necks of the false quisling fish. Next

Fever’s rising & totem. O inoculation you have failed!

                                     Yours,

S