Desi Di Nardo

Rainbird in the Annex

I make my way to MacEwen’s salient red door To catch some remnants of her A faint scent lifting into old familiar skin Her unbendable pronounced lightness absorbed by sky Deliquescent words lost to

Beautiful Vagabonds

I am not the piston in the flower or The bulging seed throttled by pollen But a separate figure expectant and Cupped by the shape palms make Holding sumptuously to the fragile Killings –

Summer Sonata

The sun sizes it up A fast grey machine Lopes like the wolf Stashed among trees Insouciant as the wind Heard but once a year Sighing cryptic litanies Fomenting everything You see it like

Keep Telling Me

It’s 12:34 And I hear them Battering me with a foul message The maddening interpretations The two dots taunting Walk backwards with me and you will see It can be so much cleaner It