Kalkion

       

As Kalki kneeled at the candlelight waters 
The vapors of his nose in the cold air 
embroidered a moccasin 
who pronounced in a slit tongue haruspex: 
Mount the splintered sky
 the wind will smoke the champagne queens 
and downtown graffiti veils
retract anima buzzards 
who
                        accelerate on their asphalt dialectics
and run grinning
falling in parking garage towers
like loveless and silenced troubadours
wildflower burial grounds 
rotting the commercial temples 
drag goldblackness from the grey 
when the blackness grins a whole gold-flaked 
crystalline consciousness 
and speaks a sun-speckled twilight to the navel of Mother Time 
laying but rising
having made the journey and in her alder rose by stars 
and love petals rose again 
after  being draped in
Ain-Soph for coded aeons
and drew a question from within her apocrypha: 
Why all this lava? 
and who melted my alder into this thin long eternal dropping of cerecloth? That maquina changed
him: eyes like surgical knives machine gun retinas
(...her voice trails off on the word dissected...)

 
We switch pictures: 
Kalki reaches into the water 
and pulls out the book of ashes 
leaving the moccasin sparkling 
dancing and bathing
 with melted longing a devil's time.
He thumbs the codices and picks at random a page from the compendium:

Some bird of fire rises in the gem  of his mind
Speaking this seance: 


My life was a sparkle 
like lovers entwined 
ice and bark
roiling gods 

In the winter 
I would go shoulder to shoulder 
floating along with my Meschian 
Youth ran long like lovers entwined
Twinned by orobouric seas
Then the seasons cycled in their madness 
When summer came the next year it spared no one.  
First to go was the comfort of hibernation.  
We woke up to one tropical oppression after another 
Meschian pulled her hair out 
mad impenetrable 
smiling a blue lunacy in the storm's flotsam 
The wind's decans blared with melting voices 
  running alongside the tropical coughing waters
embroidering rosybrown bisque gods 
with python arms that whistled in the air 
as they cut through old peoples' marrow like dead trees
 A volt shaped harangue
Shanghaied a vision that ran backwards to Genesis: 
Mount with Sun this biting
bring on the rifling pilgrimage 
your wealth of keyless oppressions—
locked odious abysses with multifarious boughs 
spreading a shadow of the cosmic tree growing 
large as monolithic tunnels and hierophant statutes  
 Stilted laws and old science--
A stoked urban conundrum. 
Kalki shuddered through his eyes
reflecting the book's then falling gold-flake space. 
He laid the book down                                    consumed by the growing linear atrophy 
and escaped the growling cult of Time by sleeping 
The slow wash of a dream: 
the rectilinear city bloomed into a slumbering citadel
an impenetrable prism 
worlds growing thick like vines
veiled like brides
running on starlight generators
a place of rose daylight
and the vellum extending in space
pallid with  smiling bubblegumpink enerjinns 
 Moving on
Zooming down through a soft heartbeat eruptions to a pentacle dungeon.  
From within the panopticon the prisoner murmured: 
bring me the wine of daylight 
and my unfathomable children 
I bit the waters, tongue in cheek 
I bit the sky with my canines 
Why must I roil here 
lying as if eternal
dropping low watercolor kisses 
on to sleeping goddesses 
filled with a parched blackness 
entranced by the orobouric waters 
infinitely floating the cosmic stairways? 
I pinched myself to wake up
I saw my star-infused 
hemmed up love 
my flotsam bride 
smile again before the tailored dream
compressed into a prismatic nothingness

 
 Kaleidoscopic engines
Shift and turn with my wind
Look to 
An eye opening in its majesty 
turning to the mouth grinning 
white teeth like the stars 
It was all this picture: 
the bubblegumpink waters 
the blanched diamond days 
what I was and saw sparked more wind
and blue worlds came unearthed         
made a burial of death 
and fathered more daylight
that
smoked the maladroit architecture
My burial was my awakening 
The crystalbluff madonna's impenetrable gape 
hemmed the sackcloth garden 
reflecting psalm-twilight
in the mind's jewelry 
like Jetta before dawn 
awakening from the slumbering 
remembering Radha's departure
          to the heavens below

 
It felt like a journey
What to do with all my bravado? 
So many boughs to label on this tree called Anon 
Every day in the glass and healing diffractions of light                         Meschian feeds me  
shadows of history and graffitied statues
places with a soul                                   
the home stitched 
back into my center    and coagulations of thoughts                     pour out in slipstreams 
like blood transformed
sewing these pages together 

My book of ashes...you read it.

               

       It's a durance-solid gridlock I wish you'd wake up from