Sonetos De Cascadia

by Paul Nelson

Sonetos De Cascadia

“THE MOMENT OF EMOTIONAL PASSION
is a flame swirling out of childhood.”
— Michael McClure
Dharma Devotion 77

Elegy for Michael

So moves the last miracle of the Mammal Patriot out of “god’s hot
prison cell, veins that with liquid humors fueled such fire”
(Quevedo) and to the far shore, easy to reach when you live life
touching the edge, when members of the hummingbird sangha
are there to lift the skirt of the veil for you, painless as the last
surrender you’d have known for having had contact with the
great Life Force. You, Rebel Lion, always in rebellion against one
dimensionality shaped by the luminosity of bell rings, the calico
cat’s tail fur and the moonlit bowl from which the buck in the
yard drinks. You always knew how far it was to the other side,
laughing voices of children perfuming the air, your grand–son’s
voice the last you’d hear after “a sip of deathbed Johnnie Walker
Black Label per . . . long–held desire” writes Amy. “MIRACLES
BLOW BY sizeless as clouds and car crashes in Hollywood
movies” you say, still hating Vietnam bomber planes passing over
because you knew the power and life force of every sentient thing,
the mouse who taught Projective Verse. “The garbage man who
plays jazz with his truck.”

6 – May –2020
6:48 am