Daytime's Moon Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(time spent thro' Finland's winter)

Daytime's Moon
(time spent thro' Finland's winter)

(i)

When day time
jams into a door of night,
as it breaks through
to the following
black door of another night,

as a night scrolls
into night
hatching squawking night,
a hen laying an egg
of rolled-out night,

I'm delivered into a flying
black albatross' shoulders
of a hammered-in
night, when time rolls

on in a thick dim
garment of an onyx
cloud switching on
a deep sable screen.

O dark tick-tock,
you stretch me out
from soot to soot,

daylight's snailing
steps spinning closely
woven screens of night.

(ii)

Night in the closed-in
night of me
is doubled night
all day, my inner core

still exploding
into a soot's stretched
arms hugging me
with another night
in a hawk's flying wings.

It's midday, Lapland's
stretch of a dark
satin weave spraying
air with night
from head to tail
in a dim shadowy cubicle
of night squeezing me in.

Night is also grinding
charcoals into
the thick screen
soot of another day

building a black wall
to brew corners
and angles
for fumbled fondles.

(iii)

Time flips time to unclothe
pitch and oil slats
on winter's window
to toss in night
to settle in the room.

Scroll down
daylight from a sky
all sprayed
by the round nimbus

jumping down
to squeeze me in with
a stretched
night glued to night,

when night
grows into a thick black
satin weave
of a curtain unbolting
a black door
to a grease dome

throughout the day
swinging
into night closely stitched
to a night enclosed
in walls of night rolling

into the cubicle
of another long-tailed
night wearing
a crow's tail, another
a world of night,
a cradle of touch and brush.

And when a neighbor
upstairs points down
a bright torch
from his above-ceiling sky,

a moon drops down
into a yard
in a light-splashed
attire of daytime.