1 APRIL
DAY OF FOOLS
IN THE SPRING OF OUR EASTERN LIGHT
END OF THE WINTER OF OUR WANDERINGS
ALL HAIL THE WINGS OF DAWN
. . . And so, we come to the girl.
A girlie-girl,
the fairest flower-child to grace garden earth,
and she's dancing,
slim girlish legs + torso,
heavy hair floating.
She's dancing,
flames of fusion,
seedflowerfruit,
she dances,
free + indifferent;
but whether she dances
for creation or destruction
or pleasure or pain, she could not,
in so many words,
tell one,
for she does not speak.
She is silent, without voice.
Her way is easier,
she dances.