It’s a Magical World

by Emma Ambos

Man-junkies swinging
the streetcops like tennis shoes
up the high-wires

they balancebeam their arms
and puncture pattern the ectoplasm
like laces, Anne’s and blood clots

the clouds they hang from
like martyrs, they moan
and fight the bit-

Riders of Leprosy
gods of their Own
crucified on the hot-shot

You Have the Saddest Eyes

by Emma Ambos

counter-weight
to be-rosed thought
cooled lookouts
like gourds they
bored lidded-
turnkey and giggle
like maracas

decalcified and darkended
the winding bottom on an Atoll
where the eels slide-
eyed and the fish shiver

with winding halfsight
into a peninsula of mind
conical formed
a fearless bundle of his

to shut them
would make you

cadaverous

If Nobody is Guilty, Who Can be Innocent?

by Emma Ambos

Whip-o-whisp
a secret told to the stars
(Trustworthy little suns)
Sparkle
Tickle the heart
with a
Shot
Gun
          (It’s just a little kiss…)
I ripped your
chemise
right      off
a split up a pale curtain
you, god-perfect
           (So much more
paleflesh            underneath…)
Oh,

but how you smiled

a sparrow
after the rain has cried
            
And, oh, how beautiful you are
I miss the sprawlofyourhair-listless
                                                       lazy
                                                            bedded-down
In the mess we
DRAGON-flies
in the midnoon

Gosh, we got dirty, doll
Nude-naked
down to the bourbon

            (I lau-gh-ed at your shy/eyes)

But now my room is just me
and your laugh
              (ECHOS)
round like a spiders web

I wish I hadn’t
let
your
hips
sway
AWAY
          (Not goodbye yet…)

I Spent The Night with a Moth

by Emma Ambos

I found him when I stumbled in,
drunk on the navy breast
of the star-spangled sky.

There he was,
brushing flutter-by lashes
against my cheeks
wishing me silent hellos
scattering roughage kisses
up and down my lips

A lover in yellow and brown,
the color of a spent sunset,
He waxes and wanes,
steady as the moon.

Silent, he tells me of his journey
of the road not taken
and the static forest trees
that took his colors
in their boughs

Silent, he tells me of his flight
A silent strider over night
over eyelash rocks and snakeskin streams

Silent, he told me how he found the sun.
How he found the sun here
in all my darknesses
and it brought him to life
shuttering-fluttering life
frantic as a nightingales heartbeat

He begs to come closer,
he deigns to back away
He grows vain and inspects
his cheek in the mirror

My lover, graceful
in his yellow and brown,
settles above me,
when the coyotes yawn
and the sun dims,
there he sleeps
a dark spot on the wall,
comforting and quiet,
he sings me to sleep.

And into dusty sleep I fall,
my lover a moth,
my sun a light bulb,
my journey a ripple of bedclothes

I sleep with a moth,
innocuous butterfly,
beautiful as a calla-lily.

Vlad

by Emma Ambos

I was the shadow
of a waxwing slain,
sullen and sodden,
plain as a Jane.

But I suppose
that is well beyond
your concern.

So close me down,
fold me up,
hide me in
the pages of
a library book,
where I belong,
along romance and jokers.

Goodbye goodbye
forget me not
or do
if it makes you
feel any better.