When the Sky Swirls Stars That
Drip all the way to the ground
at the edge of your village
a dark mid winter walk and
silent snow phantoms approaching.
I called out to the last of you
leave my memory
much like that melody
we sang by the late fires
of final dawn, now
soap flakes and snow
fly the peacock-ridden balcony.
Tralala! we hurled at the canyon
our voices embarrassed to be so slender
dwarfed by the rock blades
as the ribbed coast cut the air
even before we resigned to
shelter salt pillar brides.
The heart of it was so clear to me
you and I filled with the stuff of all things
when last we spoke, but here
at the edge of your shadow
village I will turn
and take my chances
on faded trails.
* * *
kung fu master backward
life in reverse is dance-like
problems resolve themselves
old flowers brighten, disappear into the earth
bright puffs of light
arrange the streets, open people’s eyes
set them on their way
zygote me dreams ethereal crowns
longing for a chance
to doubt you, taste this
yell at all this again still you buy it
your sleepy bowl of cheerios
Youssef Alaoui lives in Morro Bay, CA. His book Fiercer Monsters will be released this year by Nomadic Press of Oakland and Brooklyn.