poem: longing fire

sacrifice the crunchier:
the easier paths
lead home past
the aspidistras of longing
fire withers in the withering
night, life lives its
breezeways, its vagaries,
its anthems of the
gathering womb, i see
the angels of
san angelo, angelicas in their dark
angel hair,
foam on the ships
of plenty, i saw
the passing fanciers,
fancier digs,
the pies in the sky's eye,
the vestal blooms
blooming past fusion,
past fission,
past all the hollow tombs
she might have cried
she might have sung
she might have wrung
from your heart of
hearts, your last
gasping
dream
of the castaway night.