Thursday, July 23, 2009

a moment with the coconut circle

(dedicated to John Kinsella)

there in the shade in the forest
in the place near the spring
in the midday in Midsummer
that was dredged up from the sea
that was found speaking
in the rings of the sea in its rings

with magic
sea-coconut can you be real
in your dreamswirl
your kelp arbours...
so lofty as you are

we all stand watching
it ring its bright thing
it shimmers there at eye level
scruffy hairy rough little sea-god
rattling with poet-milk

a ring of pigs around the cocogod
up on their back legs
truffling the moment

who we wonder will be the first
to rush in
to start the dance

while it lasts
before we fall again
onto our front trotters
shuffle off quiet
into the stench
of hot mast

each of us now asnort in our ringing avast
our pigs to the ring
at last at last
singing our unknown things


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