Little Darling

Little Darling wants a song
     about the city on fire,
and how the pelicans brought
     the seawater in their beaks
while the syrup smoke brought
     the saltwater to their eyes
and their hollow feather bones
     got lost along with everything else.

Little Darling wants the one
     about the sad seraphim,
when the soil devoured the sky,
     and he went blind trying to shine.
He'd crash into skyscrapers
     while the dust moved behind, winding
its teeth into the scared little homes
     which got sawed raw, along with everything else.


It makes my voice unsteady,
     decorating the darkness that peers out at me
     through her heavy asymmetry.

But this love is severe,
     and at least I know the ways with her
     (feeling the walls and counting my steps)


What is offered by the sunlight, anyway?
     I can't remember.