joanna (chapter one) sat in the plane, smoke pouring from her nostrils.
outside, rain, sunset,
mild azure; sable bulks awince with fire… and all these visible at
once, while heaven,
quartered like a billionaire’s coat of arms, put on stupendous airs.
earth lurched and shivered
in the storm’s embrace but kept her distances, lifting a face
unthinkingly dramatic in repose,
as was joanna’s. disiccated rose light hot on bone, ridge, socket where
the streak of glancing
water – if a glance could speak – said, ”trace me back to some loud,
shallow chill, underlying
(by Phillip Kalantzis Cope)