The Moonlit Carousel

I. Partial Eclipse The carousel broke loudly. We made them laugh. We made them love. II. Total Eclipse If you want passion: The un-filtered wild joy of heaven and the sacred warming gold, Seek no more: Our afterlife is in the herelife, An unsanctifying rim of coexistence, A love unvarnished, Uncleansed, Sloppy like a junk-filled pick-up, A warm, hard smile, The soft, woven kiss, The thoughtful eye-brow, The tickle of a snowflake, The fading pause of the ever un-thoughted pulse And the fluid motion We gave no name In our readiness of love. We sink to be. We think to be. So grow and glow and grow and glow again In the round and round and round of the carousel we go For a new moon has arrived To be shone upon and ever spinning globe. III. No Moon The globe The strobe The harrowing roads The blighted, borrowed souls And I'm tired of poetry, moons, and everything bright. I wish for a damp cold firmament In hushing grace with whispering goats and snoring lambs Where nothing sneezes and nothing aches. Just the dream-time manger and tired eyes. The glaze of these images is all I dream for now As I trek and breathe through wire and meshing Fighting self against selflessness, Finding all is greed, the chemical survival, And love is a feeling we invented to save ourselves. We will point to the light But few walk towards it. We just show others Where this silent plume pours outward Into an endless beaming flood alit pain and confusion, A solid rigid ray As in the absolute fixity of text on stone, The stone plain and sad, like a tumor on the ground. Kick it and be sore. Love it and stay forever. The carousel broke loudly. It breaks everyday. Whether or not we leave or stay. Love or stray.