RogueAgent

Susan Michele Coronel

YOU COLLAPSED THE BRIDGE, SO WATER COULD FLOW, UNFETTERED

             for Jennifer Martelli,
                with lines from Bjork & Jennifer Martelli

I call in calendula and chamomile
for balm, for safety, for presence,
wander after your hieroglyphs
chattering in your books, your treatises,
your menus of dumbfounded luck—
devil of out-of-control cells.

Make me metallic, cobalt, cobra.
Incite my brain to riot against
its rot, its double-bind hypothesis.

You are the stump, the hollowed tree.
What will grow from blackened soil?
What will we do now that the lilacs
have curled, now that the rain
has rusted the arc of resistance?

Death met you at a fork in the road--
pulled you  
where you didn’t want to go,
forced you over the threshold,
field of gold cloth exposed.

You were part of my landscape
that elevated the passing strange:
fisheye, cat tail, stained-glass
cloud, whale spout, ram
horn, Klimt-gold water.
You collapsed the bridge
so water could flow,
unfettered.

On a protruding branch,
an onyx chrysalis shifts like a switch
to the sound of Bjork music.
An angel with blotchy Rorschach wings
smokes Marlboro cigarettes.

I dream you are back in Iceland
twisting through Surtsyellir,
one of the longest lava caves,
named after Surtr, Norse fire giant
who sheltered outlaws and demons.
You sheltered mystery in moccasins,
cleared cobwebs from mirrors
and doused them with caramel glitter.

The swirling black lilies are totally ripe.
I draw orchids on my thighs,
tie ribbons on my ankles
to remember you.

Some things don’t end hard, they go on.

back to contents

prev
next