Waste

A green bird’s breast wing spun in sunlit foresee razed, where I hung from stray film reels. In my lyrical prayer, code free and dedicated a certain morbidezza, was the laminate cell reconstituting the chaplet, the signs, the…The bird’s song, a deboned alouette, curtsie, I cried. I am the extra, Three Men and a Baby, Ghost, and that obscure Arabian film “The Blind Owl..” Ron Jeremy in “Jaws”: moving picture waste; poetry’s germ of growth.