Calypso

Happiness is the clown
that ate its head like a cantaloupe. Like a
piece of birthday cake.
Calypso dances like a shaman
on her island, brings down on you
the currents of love. The rain arrived
like a beaded curtain
with a skull upon it. A candle exiting
the room in yours past’s cupped
ghost-white hands.
A drowned comedian washes
up on shore. His jokes still
being told in sodden pockets.
There is an extinct sea animal
decomposing in my brain. Giving off
that putrid odor of wasted things.
A fisherman who thinks he’s made a fortune.
Holes in ships. Wives that have dissolved.
The lightning pulsing in some
faint message. Popping the miracle
of words into my brain. The water

snake uncoiling, writhing, spelling
it out.