SKETCHES OF POSITANO
i
first of june: sky throws down its long hair; a thermal wind descends out of the endless blue, lies down with earth, the desires of flesh dip like jove into the ambrosia; these cliffs, cascading artistically to the sea! the amalfi coast is fragrant as lemon groves, coral digging in for the long haul, the dull gray battlescars of ancient campaigns fade like history
ii
clack of a donkey hoof, waggon-wheel on cobblestone, half a litre of ginestra cooling in the shadow; on the terrace a nervous energy walks past the pergola, rippling like a fountain in the sun; first day of june, an augury, dangerous forces are at work; positano is a pomegranate, ripening in the sun, positano has intentions! the elemental desire, amalfi exposed
iii
is amalfi so unstable as this? so treacherous? and in every season, is amalfi so alluring? amalfi is a great pregnant seed, waiting to burst open in the sun like a disobedient heart
iv
first of june: sea breeze rising, brackish; and the trade winds, all one great flowing and tempo, out of africa swaddled between cliff face and eternity, this perfect grip of earth to sky flesh, sky’s uproarious root and tendril, hip to sky hip; breast to sun, this sunbit urge, young women and well placed men at the point of exchange
v
and what do we call this dangerous paradise in june? and what do we call this urge to wound the flesh of the timid fruited earth? blue hint of starlight biting deep into young fresh lips
5.17.21