Arc of the diver, curve of the bow
the way a backbone runs along the back
in sunlight something God made
a bone web that holds the beauty
upright and moves it
through the world a procession
noble as Picasso leading his glittering
entourage along the beach
beneath a giant parasol and
everyone under the sun salutes.
Woke to an indignation of trumpets,
grand pianos sliding down a wall,
diaphanous shreds of silk
drifting like smoke on corn fields,
halos purloined from angels
shopping for their smalls
in a celestial Frederick’s of Hollywood,
stirring the cranial gills.
the flame burns cool,
hold its beauty in your hands.
on epic summer nights
in the cornfields of the Midlands
where young girls
were removing their underwear
and you were there
you understood their sacrifice
lived among that flesh and Jabez
a prince armed with pincers
certain of nothing but your hardon
and the long days expanding
into marsupial nights
slow as beads of sweat on a dancer’s lip
innocent as butter melting into
home baked bread each saintly
unsoiled moment canonized
as Brigitte Bardot’s ass
filmed by Godard
on the Isle of Capri,
in May of 1963.
Max Blagg is a poet, writer, and performer from England. Blagg has performed in New York City since 1971. He is currently a visiting lecturer in poetry at The New School in New York City.