Paraclete by Penn Kemp

I am hunting the wild poetic in all its true
form’s sequence of beaded dream sequins.

I glimpse a glance from cat-green eyes that
refract light, reduce fact, fuse and refuse.

I am lying on a matted forest floor waiting
for the known universe to roll over me, toss
me aside with an errant claw or lift me toward
 celestial spheres I might have missed till now.

Bolting from the blue, the sudden poem lights
on my shoulder, a tameable parakeet ready to

unroll words like some sort of weird piano­
imagine, a player piano out here in the deep

mahogany woods beyond the rule!  This bird
comes close to naming herself, or her desire:

“Play a gain or pray begone!  Pair again, paragon!”


One thought on “Paraclete by Penn Kemp

  1. […] Paraclete by Penn Kemp. […]

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