that sun

they say shines

equally on rich and poor

is too strong and dry for me.

I watch it

cross the sky

until it sets

across the street,

across the river.

Then I turn to the

cool suns: e.g.,

Grapefruit – Potentate of Juices,

sliced straight in hemispheres,

bursting to the spoon,

and sunhaired women,

radiant in the night,

cornsilk that a

blooded man must spoon

juices from,

and overhead:

the lotus of a thousand petals —

underneath:

a planet of a thousand metals,

filling the heart with honey light,

filling the fish

whose gills drink light.