Archive for May, 2013

yucca treculeana

never benign. yucca treculeana, the

Spanish dagger nickname imbuing its

most rapturous appearance an elegant threat,

its clotted cream blossoms massed in

a towering crown, the whole plant

the size of a man, the figure a volcanic fountain of

etched emotion, crown yielding to muted green

through the sword-like leafing, so sharp, so vain,

a cascade of whirling knives, a throat, a face, a finial of

ivory, fifty petals, fifty stamen,

the tongue of sensuality

fuzzy, a

pasture for bees and creeping insects —

this is the tower of sex and death, a brocade where

thought is silk and pointless,

a hint of sleep cushioned on ripe cheeses

and heavy wines closing a repast of many courses,

the bloom-crown looming one spring month

each year, cold, sharp winds radiate as memories,

so too roasting heat — this is a desert plant —

its display meant for creatures

already versed in the detail of

pondered observation, the wash

of moonlight in every sun-washed


the fleece of razors, flesh dying

as it is born


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