Poems
Summer Night

Dragonflies rotate like helicopters;
a blue-green algae chokes the rippling sun.
At night, the horny moth becomes a swan
assaulting Leda, bearing down on her
with sheet-white wings that thrum and whir;
its curving deep proboscis slips a tongue
to gag her throat: a body-snatching alien
that pinions flesh and sucks her melting rivers.
The heat is standing out in alien corn,
in stifling crop-circles ; the moon's an orifice
where copulating stars are stuck to night.
In bonfire dark, on stones of sacrifice,
the beaks of moths are stabbing maids who burn
while bat-black wings vibrate in airless flight.