Seven Months of Sun

My great friend Jean is leaving, Julie of my 2nd life, who these past 7 months has taught me to trust the authentic in my work wherever it leads


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
Seven Months of Sun

I can’t stop you from going
to Albuquerque, you’ll be gone
in two weeks, gone too soon
I got over the flu too soon
I should be sick for this
Noon comes nicotine-stained,
heavy this dark night, heavy
I walk past a blur of doors,
past phantoms in windows
I don’t slow down or focus
I don’t care what signifies what
Go, be a sun in New Mexico
Be bright, mighty, write
I rush away from our present
Past places I wanted us to go
So beautiful, my friend
These places we’ll never go
I light a smoke for light--going
You--are light--going
The noon for me is dark
The noon for me is dark
I will not be New Age strong
I will not be spiritual about loss
Fuck Alan Watts, fuck Ram Dass
Your embrace goes elsewhere
Southeast goes your smile, arms, eyes
I will email mine,
my color by number grief
confused scribbled heart
my mind in lines incomplete,
my never-to-be-edited rough draft life,
every adverb, adjective, fuck me
loving, missing, loving, missing
I do not say yes to your exit
Not pure, not an angel
I am not serene. Not sorry
I do not accept bad things I cannot
change. Not sorry. I am disfigured
Past a blur of doors
I rush away from our present,
from our two weeks left, I can’t
cope with a final lunch, I rush
Past years I wanted for us,
past phantoms doing all things
we could’ve done in time
so much in time we’ve done
O sun who blazed with me
who made my darkness light
who lit what we did in time
Go, get out of here, I’ll stay
Black sky! Lightning!
Go--to Albuquerque, be well,
Be bright, mighty, write
what does this mean?--
I will write--what does this mean?
no tears, my face is poetry,
all our faces, poetry! anger!
Wetness, gratefulness, poetry
I’ll send my stanzas southeast!
I will not go dark in quiet,
I will howl my words through space
may they land with lightness
a kiss of words for your cheek
or a moon made of the best of me
floating poem of me, lightness
coming to rest in a tender palm
in Albuquerque, love Portland
May the rain and the cross
mock me now, my sun is dipping,
dipping too soon, dipping now
The noon for me is dark
The noon for me is dark
O seven months of sun,
you blazed in my sky, blazed
hot, your greatness I ate
and became a hot thing too
May we not be sorry for any of it
May we both be hot things
remain hot things--on the page,
hot mail, apart, away
in gravity and in lightness
I love you--
O sister-poet-Christ of my second life,
I love you--
seven months of sun