Born Behind the Rainbow

By Michael H. Kew

firelight mirrors the modernist coal-smoked brick—

aside the brook against the sunny October road of Moon

look,

look around us—

please pass the test

have no questions about answers that were never questioned

together we can absorb everything along the flower road into town

stunning sight of soft butterbrushed surf

the one encharmed veil of opportunity

viscerality of timewarped freedoms from home in the old blood

new lonely hollow of my vespertine brain

pistons of piss and precious loss

holy engine of rain

incantations of the poisoned river

in blur you can see beaches

alluvial eden

totemic ancestor

settle in to

musty wooden mood of whistle windows

tired flickered smear of raindrops across the dirty glass

young vixwitch on the bus asks me to dance

claims she was born behind the rainbow

cult of free love

“if something can go well, it will”

stay awhile in Ballyshannon

drink my way upcoast from Bundoran

enclave of infused influence

create memory garden of desolation

slosh beneath the skin of things

the new ways of seeing and feeling worlds

channel Enya and Litmus and exotic toxins

play to my pure pale heart of a pilgrim in paradise

Autumn leaves. Photos: Kew.

Bundoran.

Excerpted from Incense Gardens, forthcoming work of travel poetry via Spruce Coast Press.