I’m singing because I’m happy Buddy Holly’s Not Fade Away //
there is—I think—still time for this // he’s alive because I am
alive // chorus cutting now across the top of a column of
wind // this is how the dead infect // how decay calls out to us //
it cannot be otherwise // tube of plane—that singularity—
still churning Iowa skies // wind and flurries // ground as yet
unplowed by dying // Big Bopper—Valens—not yet fearful
beside him // the sounds—not songs—in their heads
still clear // crackling radio // it’s an abyss I might paint now
in Vantablack risking litigation from Anish Kapoor //
he alone owns the rights to fashion such an image
from which nearly zero light escapes // but the abyss is always
leaking // some nights I am so robed in it I am substrate
(afraid of heartache coming but welcoming it) // my love
Cadillac huge // a chemical vapor // sweet wide beautiful blistering
burning world entrapped // deflected // released again as heat—
skin to skin—until I am membrane // v-shaped folds in throat aflutter //
heart—BOP BOP bop BOP—alive // unclenching its fist // Amen
.