◆ ◆ ◆
call it what you will Miss Stanley,
but what do you presume?
with your light
your cats eye half shuttered you come across me here
writing letters which reach no one
but how is it you never fail to find me?
and what is it you wish to say?
the smoker that thunders
that falls around me victorious
my heart buried deep in you
my chest pressed
to your map covering
so many secrets
& I have caught the lion at your back
gripped it tight in feverish hands
as it writhed and roared in the wild night
and let go only to feel your teeth at my shoulder,
oh how elegant the lion catcher
who will not try to tame
tonight on homely fare we’ll dine
on coffee, grits and cigarettes
and hope to catch one another again
this the source of what we are
a river in Africa undeniable but still never found
we wrap around one another again and yet again
in our attempt to assume, presume and define
but for that an’ a’ that
I cannot put to words how thankful I am
to welcome you here.