NOCTURNE IN BLACK AND GOLD

after James MacNeill Whistler

an art to be, as
is is to free, climate of
holding pattern, a

felling in ascent,
the rivets of a phantom
gesture, tremulous

winglike hands, a pot
of color thrown in the face
of a spry public:

ash & ampersand,
graven as two ghosts scarcely
there, the green world

rubbled in percept,
a transit of fay pleasures,
their entanglements

beheld, time’s wheel
burnished in ludic splendor,
unwilling to transform

a mallarmean
wave for synchrony, gold crown
for russet coxcomb:

its soul perforates
a falling rocket, nocturne
in fission and flight

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from Issue 30 of Petrichor

Read more here

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By Jose-Luis Moctezuma 👍