made in jungleland

 

How can you dilly-dally while daffodils aspire
Elysian night owls talon-lifting the cerulean tent
Pan asked me to be here stranded in forever’s corner
Mugwumps bogarting the joint Fie and Shame on them
Emma Goldman, lead us over the ramparts
Don’t want to be in a revolution where I can’t dance
My heart infected by doped lightning
Wild skanky panky, skip-handled and groove-tongued
Hanging in there pointing out Emily Bronte to the guests
I wake in the Café Telemachus FINAL OFFER
Eileen Myles playing an A7 on my guitar
Carrying on about the next stop is Jungleland
This House of Cards is made of wind
These words fly— missles hissing in every direction

 

Jeffrey Cyphers Wright and Live Mag.