For Gustave Moreau
By Robin Blaser
The streets are my body
or rather the wish
of the skin to put on
the grass in a gold rain
not vice-versa,
the lips twisting to allow
the tongue to play in
the broken mirror on the floor
Catches an arm
a distance
the light
at the ceiling
This kills
the lift begged
of a magical hand
I have walked a long way
traced in these pieces
an arm
a crotch The queen
of faerie guarded
by blue-winged griffins
Untouched by
Copyright Credit: Robin Blaser, “For Gustave Moreau” from The Holy Forest: Collected Poems of Robin Blaser. Copyright © 2006 by Robin Blaser. Reprinted by permission of University of California Press.
Source: The Holy Forest: Collected Poems of Robin Blaser (University of California Press, 2006)