Beneath the Milky Green Sun
i
beneath a milky green sun you lift your glass, first
between pauses of pastis for another bone-brittle year
the poplars share their agony in the cracks between us and stones
words drunk in a sink bowl filled with milkfish before the funeral
cum left cakey on the sheets like brittle batter late in the morning
as we avoided the inevitable distaste dripped into our lungs
a death spooned longing into our mouths before the wake
her burial unbearable in the green breeze picking at the cat’s tail
the parched earth yellowing a hindered eulogy
as the trees snuck away in their bending, alas
there is no end to the cousins and cats in the alley, mourning
author's note: this is the first part of a three-part sequence which will be published in the coming weeks
