Twelve Ways of Looking at a Young Man
                 p.s. a love poem

                            I
Among the ceaseless waves of frightening unfamiliarity,
A smile.
I prayed for continuance.

                           II
From behind my right shoulder
The philosohper's tongue began
To quote and query
-Respect-
My mind (inconstant organ) began to wish.

                           III
One day a raven blessed him.
Perched upon his shoulder, the raven said
"I give you my wings"
He laughed and stroked the raven's neck.
The wings-- silent and lucid pupils-- he wove into his hair.

                           IV
The dancer's hand pulled me
From my seat, stacking vertebrae
Ontop of vertebrae, lifting
my chin. Look Ahead,
Not Down.
My ego (new discovery) began to know.

                           V
Nature heard of raven's gift
And grew jealous, desirous too of his attentions.
She cried the bitter cold tears of self pity
That fell as snow on the young man's locks
Gradually whitening the raven's wings.

                           VI
I screamed.
The healer rushed, cooled and soothed me
Cradled in gauze and sung to sweetly, I bled no more.
My heart (unconscious pump) began to hope.

                           VII
Cat knew and loved him too.
Cat taught him many things: the art
Of purring, and how to curl
Up just right in the small of your love's back.

                           VIII
The student held my hand through the haze
And gave me Picasso's seventh-grade ports
And a van full of peace
My soul (carefree sphere) began to dream.

                           IX
He told me fish live in his ears
In the right light, you can see the glimmer
of their scales through his pupils
He must trek to water frequently to feed them.

                           X
The friend wrapped arm around me,
told me of wonder and knowledge
And conceded that they fell like dust
From my eyelashes
My tears (old friends) began to leave me

                           XI
Low to the ground like an animal
His mind opens in three directions
Braided instinct, logic, and compassion

                           XII
The lover-
     I never knew