Mantra Ray
Wild bells practice the scales of icicles.
Fallen, the snow has nowhere to go,
dressed in white ermine, ruling the cold.
A Black Russian holds Ron hostage.
My friends walk a wire of braided shine.
You are my hope, my despair, my sole
purpose. You are a plurality. We are one.
The peasants are revolting.
Let them eat pheasant! One
person’s meal is another’s meal ticket.
Tomorrow spins, a coin best left unspent.
We all subsist on borrowed favor.
I am but a teller of words, my mantra
a contrail in a bottle of blue nebulae.
Hawk's Nest
The mighty elm shakes off its robe of yellow
and stands naked save for a hawk’s nest
wedged in the crook of three branches.
The sky above is utterly blue. A pitched tint.
Cold streets lead to hot spots, shrines
and loading zones. Zurcher Gallery.
Firestone. You bring a longstemmed rose.
I fix us a drink. The truth is free but no
bargain. It charges premium for a pardon.
I can’t quell the rioting in my calendar.
Folly follows me like a limping hound.
A thousand needles shelter in my bad eye.
If you were a compass, I’d claim the North.
The way a stubborn nest sticks in its perch.
Jeffrey Cyphers Wright received his MFA after studying with Allen Ginsberg. A New Romantic poet, he is also a publisher, art and literary critic, eco-activist, impresario, filmmaker, and artist. He is author of 20 books of verse, including Party Everywhere, Doppelgängster; Self Portraits in a Funhouse Mirror, and Erato’s Inbox. His work appears in Best American Poetry, 2023. He received a Kathy Acker Award for both publishing and writing. A recent collection called Fuel for Love, won the James Tate Award. Wright publishes Live Mag! You can see his films and puppet shows here.
