Five Poems
A Burnt Ship
Tiger moth, hair smoke, silk tied,
her mouth’s not the chamber angel,
the night chimera that comes
to the boy on the alabaster throne,
to the boy on the alabaster throne,
no longer child-king of Tunis,
his trigger blood hammers rust,
his trigger blood hammers rust,
strings of charms, shards of jewels
glint like sunset oil, streak shield
glint like sunset oil, streak shield
