LA LUNA NON È SIMPATICA

A shimmer in eel grass is

all you really are— September freak! See

the toothy smirk

look back at me and how she snorts and trails day after wearying day: see the long leggy drag of hers

She’s eye-bald and all that,

too, a dragon tower rising a good long time over this, that— cold magical power

Thanks to the shiny clasps

loosed on a full and formless night, anyone can see right thru her!

She’s a cool moon!

Notable’s her work

(she’s the sail to my lone ship on a two-thirds sea!): she’s a triple crown worn low, a heart-gusher, as well as a kind of pale sun spun round & round! Like the steam-breathing roes, lying numb struck, without quinoa, without passion, I love her & run myself hard with it, from dale to brook east and west By the hands I need to feel with, I feel my jacinth queen! So lives the heart, at times seeing the edges of a rotund eel-grass moon , & two cruel hooks for hacking at quinoa & at me