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luminolous
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dapt-poems

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shook her head, Hold still, he said,
his hands surfeit with the curl
and softness of her hair.
Three weeks after her death,
a stranger entered the salon
and settled in the chair.
She had the color and shape
of his mother’s hair,
and when he sunk his hands in it,
the texture, even cowlicks,
individual as freckles—same.
Twice he had to leave the room,
and twice, he returned—still,
when he touched her hair, it blurred.Hold still, he said, hold still.
Nevermind that keeping ashes
on the mantel feels ghoulish,
and comically impractical:
through no will of their own
to a moving box
I haven’t unpacked and likely won’t.
One among the shifting mass
of humanity intent
on countless destinations,
one hungry stomach
and dry mouth among many,
one brain dazed
by the speed and altitude
of flights unnatural
to any animal, by herding,
followed by waiting
succeeded by rushing,
waiting, herding—
and more flight
incomprehensible
to any body contained
in this seemingly unwieldy
mass of metal lifting
improbably over Chicago,
where a misty orange aura
hovers over the city’s
brighter lights, as if
its soul sought ascension
it could only attempt,
as if the aura
might break free
and follow us,
wherever we might fly,
wheresoever we may rest—
one with the multitude
of humans en route
through mystery,
to mystery.
I wanted to give you something for your pain.
But not the drug du jour
or the kind word this side of cliché.
Something you wouldn’t find on a talk show,
in a department store or dark alleyway.
I wanted to give you something for your pain
but I couldn’t imagine what.
Frankincense, myrrh—even gold
seemed too plain (too plain and too gross).
I needed something that wouldn’t have occurred
to you or me, or even Nature: a creature
more fabulous, more imaginary
than you’d find in a rain forest or tapestry
or pixel-loaded screen. Some exotic anodyne
an alchemist or astrophysicist
would be envious of: a chemical reaction,
an astral refraction, an out-of-body,
out-of-mind, one-of-a-kind
transport from your pain, that would last
longer than a day, go deeper than the past.
I would have founded a whole new religion
if I thought that would suffice.
As for love—sacred, profane, or both—
I wanted to give you something