Mephisto 5

I AM A GOD WITH A HUGE FACE. Lions
and eagles pour out of my mouth. Big white
square teeth and a red-purple tongue. There are
magenta clouds around my head and this
is my throne room where I
change opals into souls
in a spark of alchemy.
    Only a fool is impartial
to cool mist
 on the face on a brisk walk
 through the canyon. – Sometimes passed
in semi-darkness by a biker
or
a car
  delivering the papers.

AN
ORDINARY DAY
 in Paradiso with clouds
  of angels making a rose.

Smell of wet humus
   over the rostrum of lichens.

We are ‘safe in Heaven dead’
and the drone planes do not film
our home for the watchers
    near Denver.

Mephisto 6

SOMBREROS THE COLOUR OF CHILDREN’S
COOKIES. Colourlessness at the edges
of things. – Radiances of blue-silver
roll through consciousness
  past the precipice of protein and quarks.
  The silk scarf is sleek
on
 the
 neck
    – greens and reds melt into sienna.

 ART
      DISAPPEARS
         in department store limbo.

       I am always here on this rock
    ESCARPMENT
       eating a sandwich with you,
        watching mist tufts rise
         from the ravines.

         When you are angry
     MY
       CHEST,
        these ribs,
        lock together into stone
         and there’s the smell
         of the smoke
         of feathers burning.

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