The Powerline Incarnation

When I ran to snatch the wires off our roof

hands bloomed teeth shouted I was almost seized

held back from this life

                                         O flumes    O chariot reins

you cover me with lurids deck me with gaudies feed

my coronal    a scream sings in the air

above our dance    you slam it to me with farms

that you dark on and off numb hideous strong friend

Tooma and Geehi freak and burr through me

rocks fire-trails damwalls mountain-ash trees slew

to darkness through me    I zap them underfoot

with the swords of my shoes

                                                           I am receiving mountains

piloting around me    Crackenback    Anembo

the Fiery Walls    I make a hit in towns

I’ve never visited: smoke curls lightbulbs pop grey

discs hitch and slow    I plough the face of Mozart

and Johnny Cash    I bury and smooth their song

I crack it for copper links and fusebox spiders

I call my Friend from the circuitry of mixers

whipping cream for a birthday    I distract the immortal

Inhuman from hospitals

                                        to sustain my jazz

and here is Rigel in a glove of flesh

my starry hand discloses smoke, cold Angel.

Vehicles that run on death come howling into

our street with lights a thousandth of my blue

arms keep my wife from my beauty    from my species

the jewels in my tips

                                    I would accept her in

blind white remarriage    cover her with wealth

to arrest the heart    we’d share Apache leaps

crying out Disyzygy!

                                    shield her from me, humans

from this happiness I burn to share    this touch

sheet car live ladder    wildfire garden shrub—

away off I hear the bombshell breakers thrown

diminishing me    a meaninglessness coming

over the circuits

                              the god’s deserting me

but I have dived in the mainstream    jumped the graphs

I have transited the dreams of crew-cut boys named Buzz

and the hardening music

                                             to the big bare place

where the strapped-down seekers, staining white clothes, come

to be shown the Zeitgeist

                                             passion and death my skin

my heart all logic    I am starring there

and must soon flame out

                                              having seen the present god

It who feels nothing    It who answers prayers.