Epode #19 Poem by robert dickerson

Epode #19



Wake up, Nico, wake up
sunshine falls on your chapel walls

Standing choiceless like a nude bird
banded with cables that tug with the heft of years.

Courage, trying to lose itself, did.
Nothing is different than you fear.

From her cubicle Beauty trips last, flees first,
dripping down her perilous corridor.

Choose only the earliest dreams that rise
to browse at dawn like bream in a stream.

The pinwheel set in your eye
is neither dutiful nor beautiful-

It's blue is a boast, it's
silver nigh spits with pride,

it's red spreads itself and glimmers
'Come in. Be seated'.

Untrue soul, what is the cost of asking?
Pierce yourself, then, go ahead, just.

afloat in a boat of scars,
what's better? Pinwheel,

akin to a carosol
come down out of that false lake.

Fisherman, fisherman, in-law to a flounder
take yourself for a walk.

Jump! -your feet are decorated with plumes,
your parachute the self-refolding kind.

Continue to finger harmonies
on the strings of demot-

Let it stand you, that habit
of never looking in the mirror.

The rest is but the drift of mist
over the abyss of myth.

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