From my mother I inherited
easy grace and savoir faire.
My father blessed me with
a quick wit and a bit of Irish ire.
Night arrives in its velvet car,
seducing the vain weather.
I wear your ring and let you
rub my good luck charm.
You think you’ll have the soup.
We are mobilizing for the coup.
Confounded by profoundness,
who can help fill in the blanks?
I dream of Hippolyte’s niteclub,
dancing with fire in my blood.
JEFFREY CYPHERS WRIGHT is a publisher, critic, eco-activist, artist, and impresario, who is best known as a poet. He is the author of 16 books of verse, including Blue Lyre from Dos Madres Press, and most recently Fake Lies from Fell Swoop. Wright is a recent Kathy Acker Award.