Lanthanum Road 4.16


As Halloween draws near, & the phoenix trees
blossom & preen again, like smithery birds,
Henry gathers up his masks (his belabored
pseudonyms) & heads for the river. He's

just a mask himself, now – silky projectile
of shriveled Florida palm (immurèd way
up north, in Resurrection snow). Just a Player
King, on a huckster's raft, on a backward Nile –

cocooned monarch on Romany funeral barge;
led by the nose, by the prow, by the melody
of railroad flute (a rod of iron). Body &
. Toward some theological ménage

à trois
Maximus sketched out (with an ink-
feathered stump). & Roger lived to praise
& sing – Williams, RW, our double-play
sidewinder, he – of Rhody can-do (sink-or-

swim). Depression-era, rigid chap – striding
off the Terrace, bus-sheltered by granite
arch... yea, the figure in the magnet-
bend! Im-mediator of colliding

turbine-turbulence – two violent worlds
of rabid allegiance, cynical insolence
(odd Eden, impaired) – lifting violet fence
of soul freedom, betwixt those fright-hurled

certitude-polarities. Between earth
and sky. On Prospect Street, in Providence,
there is an agèd wrought-iron fence, whose
gravid elegance grounds all my mirth-

inducing solo loops (improvident
improvisation) – like the milky breast or
dome of myriad almond (sunbeam) lenses;
the bend of one Mississippian prong-trident.