by Robert James Berry


  My eyes have opened

  My heart is thumping music


  I hear

  other musics

  They do not concern me


  I am unfurling my fingers

  Stretching them through

  crustacean-red water


  My sky

  has a roof of muscle

  I can touch the sky

  With my creased fingertips


  I shall

  suspend my pigmented thumb

  in my new mouth


  I shall


  and kick myself to sleep


  I am miraculous

  I have these dreams

  This is my time


  I should like things to stay this way


Published March 7, 1999
[Copyright]-[Archives]-[Main Page]