Rod Riesco

Homage to Miro (1)

Which is the woman
And which is the bird?
The moon is dark purple
And we are absurd.

The star's on the floor,
The dog's on the ceiling,
The bird has two breasts
And the woman's revealing

That she has a beak.
Fish pout in the trees
As I fondle the feathers
That spring from your knees.

The bright song is shaping
The mud of hindsight.
I settle on you,
Build my nest for the night.