Blue Sun / Set the Boundaries Never Mind

disappears I could
swooping across the percussion
books of clouds open
a constellation of nails all
in closed thermometer sky
I color in the walls
sun shifts my greens
sparrows fly out of the stone mouths
of wallowing in the music of America
become animal blisters on my hands
from the first moment I heard the bell
of this narrative on television seeing
I am weathered by a primitive song
called wind the length of the dragon’s jaw
the translucent limestone maze writhing
as I string handkerchiefs through
my flame is bow-legged and rootless
drunk in a winter skull
where the elements are stapling
the window is still shattering
and it has broken another branch
and the perpetual back of hello and goodbye