Lraenu

Notes - Another poem for my final project for the "Whitman's Children" class. This poem was supposed to exercise the use of enjambed, duplicitous lines. This is about Kestrel, an entity that has been appearing in my dreams since I was four. -- A sooty field feathered With broken spines of corn Strung rows of candy tents and people I think I am the only one not smiling - He looks at me Through the song and dance And I see that I am wrong He has taken many forms, the shape of a ghost A malevolent angel A chandelier over stairs like lava Playing music as twisted as the Black iron bars that hold it up Styrofoam hands closing over my throat I fended him off with a pen Gave him a shape I could recognize - he took the sword I gave him and he ran me through Lucidity did not startle him Then one day I made him smile. He stands next to me, black coat flapping in the foul wind, cloudy hair blinding one eye. He spoke to me Untangling the iron bars so I could Understand We both looked at the boiling neon sky unwinding at the horizon He turned and said "This has to stop."