January

January

Here Winter lazes, but I am off
With companion memory at my side,
In idle pursuit of Summer’s ardor—
So saunters January after July.

Days strung together and we were inosculate
As laughter articulated our minds—
And it beat out a path for our will to follow,
During moonlit hours while you penned your lines,
Written with headiness of hedonistic pleasure
Derived of sparring that charmed us by night.

As you considered me, and I studied you—
Remember the feverous breeze we caught?
Our breath unified over catastrophe’s tip;
Told and tensed but all attention,
In an unreal city crowded with betrayal and debts.

And God is draped in his vacuous black,
Calling to me from Eternity;
Well, I shall give him a pretentious woof!
And toward city skylines continue my journey,
Rehearsing myself without glancing back:

Between the Birch and the Elder,
Postvorta, Antevorta:

I am the piston in motion…