Dragonfly Man, performed by SLON.
The lakeside pond besheathed by weeds
And footprints scraped the churn’d mud
That laced the banks, and laced the dream
Was by the salivated cud
That which would tumble, molar-ride,
Curtailed and curtained by thin lips,
Lips arid, never moisture’s host,
Yet from these jaws some pondslime drips
And from these jaws no croak’d tones
Dared break the crickets buzzing near,
For silent backlegs squatted low,
And damp, they played a tuneless peer.
Reached out in river-mist and buzz
Did silent squatter, gleamed his eyes,
And boggled they with beauty’s awe,
Upon the dancing dragonflies,
Flew tongue, it flew, the marble tip
Slid mucus through the humid haze
And drew the darting demon back
Yet on it he could only gaze,
Twas swallowed not, and quick unslicked,
But died a turmoil, river-Zeus
Did not for luncheon snare the hide,
For this preserved another use,
Snapped wings with nimble fingers were,
The webb’d grasp worked through the day,
And pulled, and weaved, intricacied,
Til ‘fore the craftsman God-art lay.
Was nothing more, was nothing less,
Than nature’s cloak, the visage-cape,
In lightning blue, but hemmed it was,
With gossamer wings, base to nape.
So Dragon-Fly Man’s goggle-gaze
Did sparkle, did expunge with fire,
And for his life-work creaked he up
Til sick with eye-glut he spread higher,
Cleared his ceiling: broke the mist,
And taking up his scaly cloak
A stiff outstretched arm, clammy fist
In widowed time the laws it broke.
For not one was the sickly pond,
Without and mud framed for mud’s sake,
But Mud-Student in rapture flew
And only did his heart he take.
Written 09/08/07 By Michael Ridley