A Wink Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

In a flashed
tornado's
swoop

waving spirals
far up
to stroke air's
ceiling,

the catapulted
push of
one eye

stitched to another
in a flash
of lightning

that blinds
both,
a veil of night

dropping
down
to cut them
off from
each other.

(ii)

And hang on
to a silk fiber
of sun
with glass

and crystal
fingers
grabbing

only ashes
of the flashed
keek
swirling
into smoke.

One burnt
peek hurled
off
in ashes
to land

without
a struck match's

orchid blue
petal
flame
fizzed off
before
a bright blaze.

(ii)

A flying mote
from one eye
darted
at another

to miss
the bullseye,
slipping off
to the woods,

while the fire
of the peep
hangs on
unextinguished.

(iii)

Two flashed
arrows
of a peep
wrestle

with each
other
long after
they' landed
with stinging
wasps

and crawling
pinching ants,

bees buzzing
with
a deep
loudening
trumpet

that doesn't
cut off
the sting
already an eye

of red coal
flying from
a bubbling hearth.

(iv)

At a party
of bleating
warbling
mouths,

eyes shoot
at each other
and
burn into
dusty soot

swallowed
by a rainstorm
of roof popping
giggles
after
a cackling
laugh sobs out:

We tied
a conjugal
knot
through a wink

soon after
cleaved by an axe
to leave
only afterfeathers.

without
a spark
from the sky

of a peacock's
spiraled
breezy tail
that flew
at our wedding.