Calling on Octavia pt. 1
Calling on Octavia
Etching your way forward, you seek
To “refract” things. The beautiful has already
Spoken. Oh, that I might have a hemisphere
Of sentimental shock, coupled with despair’s
Mythic longings. Stop. I want to use some
Other word, a pedigree for the nearest available
Chess game. Time is earnest in a potato field,
While the barbarians are late to come. Switch
That quilt, which is narrated by yellow fins,
Some cloudburst with its menacing ____.
“You” are taking it slowly, as you lean against
The stove. History, filled with its pardons marches
On, while you take what you can, and the many
Colors are vague distances you never even seek.