drunk on falling

ambitions are lost 

a kladeiscope 

    of everything i once lived 

the array of clouds— — — — become the stars—

become the moon and melt into the atmosphere 

dropping and dripping away from here 

and follow the sun into its descent 

under the moon 

under the mud 

and under the core 

of heat and rubble 

that started it all.

the branches ‘ ‘ ‘ shake ’ ‘ ‘ ‘

and the earth feels 

as if it quakes 

while the last beloved 

of Cassiopeia 

bend with each other last will 

in the distant limb of Perseus

and light-years away 

my tears become the universe 

and once again 

become stardust 

under the melting constellations

i wonder if i’ll be next 

the pianist the poet the falling 

the follower 

the followed and felt,

if they’ll call me an epithet 

of an epicyclic eclipse 

   when i am still falling 

in time, always wishing 

the past was present 

and present was far forgotten,

the future is just a lightspeed 

away and is made of cotton

lust. indulgence and greed 

` forgotten creeds of yesterday

in the falling winds of blue jays.