Facilis descensus Averno,
what Sybil said to Aeneas
I say to you, O my pretty
telluric commandos!
I’m swimming on September air,
before the Uzi, before the M-16,
standing in the upstairs
bedroom reading a poem.
Effervescent. A blue floor.
Webby sills. I exercise stability,
long for sunlight, longed
for but ungrasped. You
incomprehensible culture.
Beware the axe of change.
You are too many too fast
to see what’s in your way.
Return is tough, the stairs
have caved in, only
the mad would attempt the
attic’s shaft of moonlight.