Fateful Beginnins

Fateful Beginnings

“headed or a speck
on the sea’s rim in
the hope it can contain
a shore”—Alice Fulton,
“In the Beginning,” Dance
script with electric ballerina
My poetry teacher said—“Flow with it”
It held together—I didn’t know I was
Naturally—precognitive like Miss Eliot’s
Madame Sosostris—famed clairvoyante

Everything happened—this way for me
I was sensitized—down to the last twitch
And twinge—of painful grace and gauche
Buoyant buffoonery—banished el primitivo

A different kind—of Rimbaud bateau ivre
No Redskins after my scalp—roped to the
Skeletal mast like Ulysses—my ears stuffed
With wax—me & my unknowable cargo

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