heart as the arizona

she talks silver threads like ribbons of spit flying
my eyes see golden wires the fine circuitry of a sexual connection
the sky fills with sudden japanese zeroes
their humming cantata of kamikaze intent

the dark mirror shows eyes flecked with blood
the soul sheds tears through the corridor of dreaming
every day fills with the banshees of pearl harbor
surprise pain suicidal love

if hope is a radio white noise is the semen of dreams

This is one of my own favorite pieces, but I know that it appears to be almost entirely opaque. Let me explain a couple of things. The USS Arizona was sunk at Pearl Harbor by the Japanese, December 7, 1941. It sank with a good thousand men on board and few if any of them escaped this tomb. There's a memorial in Hawaii, just above the site of the sunken ship. I saw a teleplay in the early sixties based on the idea of a group of men, trapped in one of the compartments, under water, realizing they only had a few hours to live. This kind of thing has always made me for claustrophobic.

This poem refers to the sudden attack on myself by Becky Bradway, that resulted in the end of our fourteen year relationship. Though looking back on it I can see I should have expected it, it took me entirely by surprise. Becky had promised me solemnly when we decided to have a baby that she would never do that to me. But, of course, Becky never kept a single promise she made to me over those years. I don't know why I expected she would keep that one. In any case, with that information in hand I believe this piece opens up into a dark but hopeful flower, resting on the surface of the pacific in the bay at Pearl Harbor.