I am alone
I am a child
I am the wolf cub's mother
I'll walk down the lane
I'll ride on the train
I'll talk kind with another
But,
Oh,
France has many valleys
and mountains for to climb
and limestone in cathedrals
and souls for another time
And maybe I'll throw a party
To remember the Mardi Gras
I'll nod to the Zulu masters
and the Wars of Algeria
I'll translate Berber Wisdom
I'll soak the bread with oil
I'll gaze in real estate windows
and I'll ever be love to the world
but twilight comes like reason
intuition invites the night
I'll coil my thighs like music
and I'll write, alright, I'll write
In words I'll keep my promise
to learn and to be forlorn
to listen to the reams of language-
Catholic Yarn for Catholic Yarn
The Pope stepped down on Sunday
the day the largest crocodile died
In Filipino mourning
hail mary burns Vatican skies
And here at my desk in Paris
the geraniums fight the dust
a piano is tampered to silence
and a mirror's the God that I Trust
A tree of provincial cosmetics
drops a clementine
I will rifle through sweaters in markets
and dream of American pride
In gasoline I am paying
for the highways I have found
for Indians whose Salmon are dying
for casinos on burial grounds
I enter a Europe of Syrup
Whose natives are people in stores
where children succeeded their elders
Into cities and centuries pure
In citrus and pagan yearning
I'll take to the theater steps,
In a town named for its lilies
In a Paris of history kept
I'll drip magnolia hymnals
as the band begins to play
the brass of held horns jingles
out of the theater today.
Inside of the auxiliary chambers
New Orleans steps out on a snake
the jazz of oceans in slumber
is here for my ears to take
Like shepherds we take to newness
to the hills that rise before
through pulpits and cupulas and ti-chi photoshoots
Through starlight I herd the world
New Mondial New Mondial
the sun dial of our days
The crocodile was captured
The crocodile was mourned
as Martyr
but never as slave
Largest Ever Recorded Crocodile Dead
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