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Lycoris Radiata

 

You know not
of foolish men
ruling steel
fists they raise
under blue suns
cities of kin
burn whole
a radiant
red palace
and its garden
for sleeping.

Father, oh father
have you yet
to swallow
the root of
a higanbana
a madness of
ruby red magic
in a black widow’s
dream—?

Autumn nears,
father
as a forest
green empire
is engulfed
in a blaze
so soothing
the sky blue,
an onyx crown
it becomes,
and a glowing
yellow moon
follows my face—
trickery and fury,
have you stolen
father, from
summer storm
Susano’o?

Your longing
howl,
a circular
infinity ruptured.
Do you hear
the rainfall beating
on cowhide skin
father?
It is the life
of autumn,
supernova
booming;
two golden lovers
hatching from
the clash of
opaque neutron stars;
slithery dragons,
life streaming
through their
nostrils,
a cadenced march
castle empire
the pounding
crimson
hearts of
festival drums.

Ballooning from
the belly of
a hurricane
a devastating calm; lily.

There, do you see?
Curly scarlet scarfs
dangling, undressing
little lanterns
seducing
a swallowtail’s
delicate tongue.

Flashing bulb,
bones dusting
at its gut,
rooting up I saw them,
near
my grandfather’s feet;
grave;
mourning;
rooting them
out,
my mother.
Father, have you yet
to welcome
our patronage?

Ominous fireworks
parachute to heaven
leaving behind
a combusted castle,
dragon breath,
your longing
howl—
scurry you may,
the death of
insects shunning

the light of
sun, is inevitable.

Somewhere father,
there is a butterfly
feeding on your
regret.

 

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