An Invitation

Let me invite you to kiss

The smirk of the Medusa

Reach to touch the victory still

Naked in my hand it is

So brutal an understanding

I will demand of you in your weakness

So attendant an inscription to

A century's failure

If every hundred years a certain

Style evolves out of mystery into mystery

Then perhaps this evening was meant

To be a clever clue & if what matters

To you is not the disconsolate

Reportage of your sisters & brothers

But the unheard songs slowly swelling

At the horizon's edge

As the girl with the ivory flute

Unravels the trance of summer blossoms along

The wind then here Sister Warrior is where

I'll stand beside you: at the broken wall

Of that fortress where lips of ice have sinned

Copyright World Poetry, Incorporated Mar/Apr 1999
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