Parading

All times coexist, said Pancho Ferri,

There’s a rainbow before me

Here I go and I don’t know why,

All hail the dark blooms of amaryllis

in a space in the sky, I let the sky look

to that edge, that border in the night

Coyote’s tongue slides into night

She has the frisson-fright air of a gypsy —

Flame cataracts of heaven in seething swarms

learn the river insect’s secret