1

clamber up here,
my American lover, lean
over and kiss
the speechless stones.
the molten silver
Urubamba
shakes flowers and trees
in the moment of coitus,
drinking what spills.

unburdened of grapes,
denuded vines rise
on the wind, dragging
their stiffened winter
silent coronals
out and over
        the yawning gorge.
Come! Come!
tiny organisms under rocks
wings against the rocks
simultaneous ice, like glass
rocks the crashing air
divisive war of sparkles
green shadows of rocks,
savage waters
under the dissolving snow.

Love! Love!
        until night
in the mute Andes
breaks off, light
flying off the stones
where the child of the snow
on red knees strikes sparks
with flint under the snow.

2

O, Wilkamayu
narrow and deep
slash of river, echo
the lines of pounding storms
geysers of white froth
the injured snow broken
off. 
        The rising tempest
singing, ripping the sky.
what language can we hear,
what ancient rumbling
phonations reach the ear
so recently uprooted
from these Andean mists?

*     *     *     *     *

what does your hounded
your castaway brilliance
recount these days?
your occult and rebellious
thunderbolts?
did they once tell
your whole story
        in words?