THERE ARE MANY PATHWAYS TO THE GARDEN

If you are bound for the sun’s empty plum
there is no need to mock the wine tongue
but if you are going to a rage of pennies
over a stevedore’s wax ocean
then, remember: all long pajamas are frozen dust
unless an axe cuts my flaming grotto.

You are one for colonial lizards
and over bathhouses of your ear
skulls shall whisper
of a love for a crab’s rude whip
and the rimless island of refusal shall seat itself
beside the corpse of a dog
that always beats a hurricane
in the mad run for Apollo’s boxing glove.

As your fingers melt a desert
an attempt is made to marry the lily-and-fig-foot dragon
mermaids wander and play with a living cross
a child invents a sublime bucket of eyes
and I set free the dawn of your desires.

The crash of your heart
beating its way through a fever of fish
is heard in every crowd of that thirsty tomorrow
and your trip ends in the mask of my candle-lit hair.

--Phillip Lamantia

2023
Ariel Rubinstein

Plate from Berkeley Poetry Walk

More details can be found here Click for the item in The ultimate street signs site