by Suzán Jiván
An immense misshapen sun
transformed into an aura
falling short
with no history at all
in poetry or song
after imploring
earth, wind and water
as dollops of the forgotten
frustratingly becalmed
like mystical stars of charm
either whole or in shards
flashing orange
suffused with nostalgia
in backward glances
of old masters
and the technology
of genres
operating in novel
shipyards
with hallmarks
of marshall arts
as old-school
shooting stars
captured
in stop action
inside a rotating
local-yokels' tornado
stacked with laugh tracks
meant for the whole family
measured in leaps and bounds
in the altar or convenience
while making sport of the salty
except for select songs
performed as scores forevermore
hybrid to the core...
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