Tap Dead Center

Facts like the late show
burning out in sunset colors
including all the dark mist lifted from
strangled candles
& I thought reliquary
the disparity which makes
her hyped crucifix glow in the
dripping alleys of consecration
& from the sleave of midnight
solicits obituary bells

not that I’d tank the hallelujah
alongside a bloodstained cadillac
but with damp ocean eyes attend
the shadow of her native tongue
& map the tropic of every barefoot pirouette
landing like Ensenada pavement
torched with neon
shimmering the way the tide does
inoculated by milkfed needles