Upon the Flying Bus You Came
Upon the
flying bus
you came
space-children
of a smiling
planet, a laughing age:
you the troll
arms bursting above your head
rolling a language to the roof
while we O we do palely smile
or look away
your mouth is nibbled upon by your nose
your eyes roll beadily in glee
and you wide girl of shadows
from what corner of the universe
where fairy girls grow broad
foreheads
and innocent sad eyes
and you man
head like a squash
speechlessly merry as the bus
highway
dances on your gaze
electric joy streams around your
skull
which you twitch as to dislodge
an invisible threading fly
and you
awkward glassy girl of new teen
face too wide at cheek
at neck
indecisive body
now here or here
altogether
you are something too innocent
the non-stop joy you shine
from slanted eye and lip
marigolds the white exhausted air
we mind-tombed others
expel yet refuse to share
Marigold Girl -- Mulysa
Marigold Girl -- Mulysa
In a comment to me, Peter wrote: This “upon the flying bus” came at a low point in my life, no money, no vehicle, on a bus, and on came what we used to call “mentally retarded” children, and so to this poem.
ReplyDeleteMulysa collected flower petals, leaves, and seeds from her gardens in Minneapolis and Portland, and from Kew, pressed them, and used them to make pencil or watercolor pictures with archival glue and papers.
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