And Shake Sparks - of Luxury

Onto the Paper Wall - Like a Dog -

Here in your Home - Emily -

Mother of Necessity.

Amherst Ballad 8

At the center of your Room -

Like a Moth - Affixt -

Your milk-color Dress - Bodice for Head -

Wings for Skirt -

As if - you knew - we would Leave - in Space -

One of us - All in White -

To twist in the Wind - Millennia -

In a - Hothouse - Mushroom - Suit.

A Soul - can Float - a Loon - alone.

The Solar System - with its Bones

And along its Body - can Orbit -

A Fascicle - a Dropped Glove.

Thank You - for your - Company -

In Grief - in Fury - Craving - Wit -

And your Courage - Isolate

Which Honed - Desire - to Wedge.

Where Solar Wind - Begins to Stop -

You went through - Termination - Shock -

And Infundibulum - and Through

No Pasarán! -

And Solar Unconformity

Until - Permanent Momentum -

And then you Lit the White-hot Iron

Chrysanthemum.

Amherst Ballad 9

No Jack I - Nor killed a Joint -

But with Arthritic Hip and Knee

Slid - Slow - under the Bed

Of Passion’s - Queen -

And saw the Underside - the Cherry

Burl, the Linen Heaven - Ceil -

The Chamber Pot - eye to eye of

Rose on Top the Covered Bowl.

And while I sat on Rushes’ floor

I tried to Flee myself - arrive

At where I was - where her soul had dwelled -

Her Nest, her Hive, her Alcove,

Her work-place! Her Tools -

Geode-cluster Crystal Inkwell—

Nibs of Paper-thin Steel, pen of

Mother of Pearl.

Her Parchment Flaps - of Envelopes -

Her Table - and her Chair - Seat Silk

Horsehair - Windows Four and wide

And on a Corner—

Her Lidded Dish

For Night Water -

Her White Dress -

No Salt tear - no drop of Sweat -

i craved - with my lucille i -

To honor our sister - to Ballad

From reed Matting up toward Curves

Of her Cherry-Burl sleigh Bed.

Not alone, there - with lu -

There with C.D. and Forrest,

There with Toi, Brenda, Bob -

Every radical Troubadoure

And an Adolescent Daughter -

A Rhyming Dictionary -

With added Table of Contents

Such as “Breast Poetry” -

A cartoon face with its Tongue stuck out -

Saying yuck! and blech!

And a Footnote added, “Cat now rhymes

With Chair, I guess.”

But next to “Advanced Martyrdom”

And “Offspring Are Your Toys”

Is drawn a sweet crooked smile

And happy Eyes.

So she Was in that Space - with me -

Place of Miss Dickinson’s scansion

I visit in my Mind when counting out her

Dactyl, Anapest, Trochee, Iamb.

Spending weeks with Emily’s Feet -

Suddenly Pictured out in the air

In the morning, fresh-woken, her naked Foot

Touching - the Floor -