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Cliff Notes On MoonlightThe Sprouting Grass moon writes in Esperantothat whatever we love can go free. Mountains skip off, unmoored, Oceans crescendo, mimicking musical epiphany, as if they had heard Beethoven's side of the story. Actually, also, the Sonata itself plays somewhere in a darkened room. Minor notes, adagio, circling a white plaster Guadalupe lit by one votive. What else? Prayer opens the dissonant bud, Humming bees of desire, yearning for the outbreath of beauty. Stung by so much wanting the Mare Nubium refills a cup for the light pouring endlessly from elsewhere. |
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Issue #22/23, October, 2001 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.