Snow Globe Explosions

in this heat, this golden heat
we slump sumptuous with buttercup tongues
dropping eyelids on houseflies
stretching toenails on curling floorboards
pinching photos of cherubs in soggy time
builders down the next block
beat out the evening on a nest of timber
          a clave beat

we build this evening with salvaged beams
from haunts and old houses
we eat dreams and sleep
in snow globe explosions
celestial plow, space grader
scraping up banks of sparks and clouds
your hard-bargaining sounds strafe
the crunch glass path of the Milky Way

candy-crooked pieces of glass shrapnel surprise
break brittle-wise, throbbing out a rhythm in the skin
we’re sleeping on Sophie’s red stoop again
tails to the meridian-ripping crush
face first in the candle wax and paraffin gloss
a Johnny Dyani groove scrapes down the frets of our backbones

with such eruptions from the barracoons, what else to do
but stake your tiny palm to my chest, and sap out on it
belfry, beat that thing in steel solemnity
there’s a bell at the bottom of it
            beat it

About the Author:
Spree MacDonald lives in New Orleans and teaches at the New Orleans Center for Creative Arts. He has previously published poetry in journals such as Danse Macabre and Symmetry Pebbles.