Wednesday, May 27, 2009

for jean toomer

for jean toomer
pour o pour that parting soul in song
o pour it in the sawdust glow of night
from “song of the son”
yr bright poetic luster turned flood light bright
on my own quintessential darkness & caught
up in the dazzling glare of superlative
emotion & exquisite metaphor couched
in language much like radiant òrìşà speech
i groped & stumbled about like one flashblind,
my retinal pigments bleached & like a dark
adapted pupil, i waited long for sight’s
slow return. u anointed my eyes with paste
made from moistened oatfield dust; i saw again
thru’ different eyes & sang a cane-lipped song.

©Joseph McNair; 2009

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