© 1996 Dave Awl
Minuet (everything I do)
Everything I do I do
to prevent the clock from barking,
the geese from laying their eggs of stars,
and the stars from swimming away.
The black salty beds of the night
are alive with hatching sparks of fire,
wriggling, pushing off, and the aching
great tortoise of earth struggles
into the sea, making for warm
gulf streams. I am left
alone on the beach, the alarm clocks
have formed a circle around my ankles,
and I reach into the sky, spread handfuls
of its thick, rich oil
on my hands, face and arms--
thinking in this way to evade time.
The clocks give up and set off
for their nests, leaving me alone
to wait for the sun's arrival,
naked, invisible, uncertain.
I want nothing but to
dissolve under his touch.
I wait, smelling of smashed egg and ridicule.