You
sad angel sitting
again
to remind me of that
day on which you were born
Saturn raised its heavy head.

Any sighted comet would have
been more hopeful
than that menacing globe

Remember the gelignite in your lungs
and cotton bronchioles?
Remember emptiness without melancholy?
Your chin on your palm, your power
lost, lost
in the number thirty

If this is the last orbit
the last revolution
the last whirl of your life’s wheel
hear how my song will ignite your pranas
until the
final wick of your trapped soul
cinders