Spring Explosive

Spring Explosive
*after Dalí, and Eiseley

For a frost, offspring 
of a sunrise is corrosive, 
while turmoil of a kernel beautifies 
to violence. A chrysalis 

Liquefies cracks to knives,
striking psychedelic petals. Burning
dyes intertwine a pulsing
green that drives the season

To kinesis. Inside a pod, 
an upthrust grasps what thrives, 
spuming: fruit and flower 
subsume an epoch. Storming

Chlorophyll balms the crust
of unclothed globe. Colossal 
palms warm to holding 
life, divining: into form.

Copyright © by Kevan Copeland


An Artisan

An Artisan

The persona is a bruise,
not a self. It builds
being via craftsmanship.

Structure covers lack
of formation—scaffolding
camouflages decoration.

The body ages, contains
something young—
in him performs

The play
of discipline and inspiration.
Calloused, grasping

Is now granting
shape: into fabrication.
Construction is cacophonous:

Beams pirouette
before steeling; a father
once latent, now testing.

Copyright © by Kevan Copeland

Nuclear Dive

Nuclear Dive

Reactor, your rods 
flicker and slither—hair
beguiling me, swimming 
in spent fuel. Refusing
perimeters, I want an excitement

Dosimeters read. Your criticality
initiates frisson; I risk 
beta burns, dodging
your doses 
strewn throughout cooling

Cherenkov 
hues—though I’m losing 
acuity. Why am I 
diving, reaching? Am I
an Ama, searching

For Japanese pearls? Am I
a Fukushima girl
caught in a seiche?
No, I’m whorled into your
geisha chicanery,

Pool of blue fabrics winding
to you. What is the core?
A murderous thrust, a phosphor 
essence I’d forgotten I knew
in me, before you.

Copyright © by Kevan Copeland