Just A Thank You Note
Just a thank you note to say that
Once you were bespectacled, respectable as
the stack of yellowed paperbacks behind your
mouth that smacks of wis-dom, wise judgement,
heavy as a cudgel in the contours of my brain.
Your words hung in the air, light as a wrecking ball
and there were angels in the atmosphere. Their blood is on your hands, which were extended, palms up,
full of gifts that I savor after the slaughter. Gifts like recipes or roadmaps, presents that necessitate
Just a thank you note to say that
If kintsugi makes a thing more precious then
my mind is a goldmine, a hoard of glittering things that you plundered and pushed across the table toward me like a bottle of glue, an offer I accepted. Rubble and glue inside a skull, what can I do but suture them together, raise a new dome, like building a ship in a bottle. I craft columns, halls, and balconies that arch toward something ineffable. There are angels in this architecture, birthing and re-birthing like Athena leaping forth and bubbling away like a mermaid in foam. So this is
Just a thank you note to say that
Thanks to you
I am an architect, an artist, an angel,
a ruin-god-lover-handyman-cynic-golddigger.
Thanks to you.