The Sun King peeled off A sheet of onion skin And sent down a letter to me He said I was just a farm boy A rag tag urchin but now you see That I am made of solar rays I scatter the gold on the fields and the sea foam And I invite you to come dancing by the shores Of the endless sea where I roam. Bring me my telephone, bring me my megaphone Bring me my sceptre, Do you have the strength to hold on to the light-body of A glowing ghostly specter Every night when I go to sleep I dip under the event horizon And in the morning when I wake up You are already bright and risin’ It’s all so beautiful It’s all so perfect It’s all so fitting To join the endless trail of the Sacred dancing children Me and the sun king exchange words On the boards of the bay It’s she and he spinning ceaselessly Infusing light into the grey grey Day Lightboxes, photographs, ouija boards Periscopes and unaddressed envelopes Fingers on strings, slippery floors And dime store rings And rough paper words torn from All of their shattered glass dreams As Aphrodite she sighs mighty and the Sun King Spins The dance of the Sun King and the Queen of Discs Reflected back at each other through The lapping tides and trees and seeds of mist. It’s he and she spinning endlessly A family snapshot of the muse’s latest tryst. I wondered, wrote the Sun King, do you dance? Do you know how to rise up like a lilac? And fall into dry earth like a rose she tumbles into the dust? Do you do the Lilly-putian, do you stomp like the giant in the briar? Do you smell the hyacinths streaming fragrance from their Hidden heavenly bower.... ....breathing their sweet scent into the tomb of the slow dying hours? Does the City open up before you spilling secrets and her Grubby gutter flowers "Sun King", I replied, to no one though I knew he was listening, "I don’t know how to dance but I am a willing student Send me counter clockwise spiraling into the realm of the spheres Show me how you move and are reborn each year upon every year." It’s the sun king and me spinning endlessly Upon the air of the sugar spun sea The grubby sea-urchin spinning forever grinning on the Shore of that pale flat blue tifaine Aphrodite bless me with the song of your shell Let me bathe in your beauty and avoid A season down in the depths of hell Pink shrimp they dance in unison Contracting and expanding as the seaweed drags me down Moving and vibrating to the echo of that gentle drowning Undulating sound Small fry and big kahuna landed from sea to ground I am a vessel I am a shell I am a fragment of that wild thin Reedy rebel yell And as I watched the Woodsman marked Another ancient tree for the fire and his axe it fell
D–This reminds me of William Blake’s “Jerusalem.” Powerful and mystical. More powerful than Blake, really. I continue to read and, frankly, gather your work (keeping it at hand to go to). You continue to be an impressive essay writer who should be widely read. I only hope the life situation that you’ve made such fantastic choices to endure gets better and better.–Christopher
I don’t know what to say, apart from, thank you. I am going to try my very best to get well. Thank you for the encouragement. So very kind.