Two Poems

Application for Sainthood

All hands up in love, a trio talking riffs
ascending at different intervals together, eternal bliss
according to the weather of the hereafter
or, depending on how long art lasts, of the never.
Out the thunder, out the hunger
ringing all bright sense in paradisial weather

Passionate women are singing sell my heart
but don’t undersell yourself. Don’t start
exiting in the beginning; don’t stop climbing into
visions tapping on the window, or what’s coded into
these walls, our cantos, feeling out of depth
in thinking thought, and seeking the mind’s wealth.

A magpie in the yard constructs from memory
locus amoenus in the Primum Mobile
inside prisms with flowers impossible
...