Jig

by Clayton Eshleman

Nanosounds,

interior stellar

zoom,

zoas of

the poetic art,

ecstacy enstacy of

the gyrosonic

body

 

I am a worker wasp on Tyler Duncan's hand,

watching him swingle

sound flax out of bagpiped hip,

I enter the wasp nest sound swirl,

melody lines limbically entwine (first parents

with long, dragon-coiling tails:

 

spicy early thriller, a sly

pricey thrill, reply as icy thriller, really

tip her lyrics, rip rectally sly heir, rectally

reply Irish, rarely hysteric pill, really

rich piles try, layers prey till rich, rich till

slayer prey, arty lisper rich yell, yell arty

rich perils, lechery rarity pills, thrill

creepy lay sir, slyly retire rich pal, icy

thriller replays, a silly triple cherry, irately

cherry spill, prey ill slithery arc, prey

later silly rich, prey alter rich silly,

slyly rich April tree

 

Jig, dyadic Kundalini

"Caryl Phyllis Reiter"

anagrammatic manger

 

Before I was Clayton, I was clan toy,

lacy ton, ant cloy, any colt.

Rounding thrill icy corners, my face accordion

unfolds, what twins are spotted

in its pleats! Tunnels of Tezcatlipoca

turning plumed --archaic sounds

a maze of reeds, each repeat

sprouts new flutings--

so dart in, retrace, then

pivot to reoccur. The obstetrical toad is

gigging in his fertilized skirt.

Foetal propellers are

turning left, strengthening

energies into a heart.