ARKADII DRAGOMOSCHENKO'S WALK


Making us alive
   in your millennial walk
  as a language poet
      of inexplicable casualties
  seeking like Ulysses
moving waves for us
in our ill fitting clothes
 (as ever youngish Rimbaud)
not knowing the avenue of unbelief
as doubt under girds your implanting
voyages of thunder

in a poster loneliness
   of  going away to the tundra
    in a far country
now you travel alone carrying

Volga's cabin fever
in your lumbar's back bone
    barring out the shame

 of a lost winter
    headlong from sun bellies
      and grey river waterfalls

past peaceful drones
   and sea gulls

shading in unbalanced hawks
   you sea flying upward
  by a Siberian husky

 who holds onto you

with hunger pains
 for conceptual   words in half miles
of shoreline whitened villages
in the pitch shadow darkness

of black grackles and starlings

   eating from Ukraine's
black bread basket
 by a dream   innovation
   the cirrus in focused cloud
  arrangements,
meaningless as sky lines and smoke
  from the childhood Sputnik.