I finally believe in epic love.
Its pricey constellation knocked
at my door with the music
school of the mystic, the modern
future of the fractured wind.
With birdsong and stars out.
Yes, stars out. The day this all took place
rugby players were taking their place,
a symbol in history on an international
playing field. Rugby is on
the television. It has cemented
families nationwide in South
Africa. The world glued to
their television screens with a kind fever.
It reminds me that any art is life,
the magic thirst of it. That scientific
attraction is matter. In love,
war, everything primitive is art,
the heritage of self so delicate.