Bog Star
lazarus born again
half in the last, half in the new
already bent
toward the next
swallow the bog star
welcome the waxy petals
lulling the inner cheek
only half consumed
blades of parnassus
still cutting
scratching
lodged in the throat
when eyes catch delphinus
sewn together
by threads of light
now that’s a star
swimming in the opposite blue
flushing and fading
rebirth is only a slow drowning
pantheon of cracked grails
each half sipped half shrunken
golden mead of grief
trickling to the morrow
and day before
guzzle that proverbial poison
‘all that is gold does not glitter’
rousing malady
of a moth-eaten heart
tendrils knotting ravenously
spectacle of bloody baroque
painted by heights untold
I, unfurling on a blue pavement
stony canvas of the self-effacing,
dilapidating
behemoth of desire
pile of shame
