Gregory Autry Wallace

étrennes

 

 

 

Words shone green inside the crystal

 

Words shone green inside the crystal:

curly disorder of her future selves

supporting in midair a hand

softened by a slight flexing

 

She submitted herself to

rainbow of burning crystals

the knight stood motionless

& the sword he drew

continues to grow brighter

 

He stood before

sinister halo

& all the while the light

radiating outwards from the

stratification of curved time

 

She vibrates like a tuning fork

& her head

painted a dazzling white

makes her almost indivisible

 

Uncommon to see the thinnest

people moving about in

complex space-time

for wherever you go you carry

central foot that flares toward

spool of interwoven wire

 

Families, bound together by

a carpet of diamonds

become so good at not eating

there are people so thin

they are sometimes surrounded

by gravitationally distant observer

Even the Fairest sky (seems a

 

Kind of surgical table, elliptical in

doorways and alcoves, until

softened by a slight flexing

stratification of curved time

words shone green inside the crystal:

rainbow of burning crystals

inflaming trees and flowers

 

There are people so thin

radiating outwards from the

curly disorder of her

dark brown hair

surrounded by gravitationally

complex space-time.

To a distant observer a black hole appears

painted a dazzling white

incised with the letter V

 

 

The Gift of Orion

 

I stand out in the open

with a bitter crust

sailing discs to glint

my silver-studded sword/

once I had drunk the dark blood

& Assyrian wine

we were plagued

with cigarette-paper leaves

torn by oil sea/

the gull will fold

          blue broken wheel &

          trees covered with pink rust.

the forest where I first

reddened the stones

bears now ripe fruits from Arcadia/

countless birds still

remind me of a sad death,

grey with morning

in the half light of

the waning gibbous moon

whose rest is deep and boundless

 

 

The Golden Man

 

Clap of radioactive worlds

bits of energy hurl into

flaming rainbow

wire rises from

the black crown

soft gamma repeaters

switch positions in space

linked by tapes that

step out into the moonlight

golden dot the size of an atom

resting on my head

blind world of burning orange

 

With her springy body she stands in the

surface of the glowing planet

she prays to the water

she immerses herself

in the super-fluid

high in the clouds radiant sword

under the flaming light

cold space shifted to more perfect poppies

Persephone under starlight

behind her closed eyes

soaring columns of sea-green hair

filtered through the seas that ring the world

 

 

 

ATLANTA

 

imagination is a flower

distant in my dream

winged by her swans, across the middle air

Venus riding in her decapitated area

darker shadows

of rain-pelted nipples

scrap of book mosquito

& the soldiers coming

 

when from heaven on high

she saw him lifeless, writhing in his blood

like those butterflies that

could ever make me burn

like radio grid on sky

the very shape of fire)

acid loaf remembrance

everything is silent as in the crack

beneath purple end days

 

 

 

Gregory Autry Wallace is a poet and artist living in northern California. He is author of the poetry collection The Return of the Cyclades (the book patch, 2017). His work has appeared in Athena Incognito, Black Scat Review, BlazeVox, Danse Macabre, Sonic Boom, Clockwise Cat & Five 2 One. He has a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature and a Master of Arts in Creative Writing.