Paradelle for Sebastian

A paradelle is a strict form of poetry that was invented -- sort of as a joke -- by one of my favorite poets, Billy Collins. You can read about it on Wikipedia if you want, but the basic rules are that the final lines of the first three stanzas must contain every word of the lines above it and no others, and the final stanza must contain every word of the stanzas above it and no others. It is, in short, a ridiculous form of poetry, but it's extremely fun to play with.
I wrote this last year. For my subject matter, I chose a crazy weekend that my close friend Sebastian and I spent in San Francisco and Oakland, circa December 2010. I like this poem. I like its oddness; the very ridiculousness of the form works perfectly with the subject matter -- some of the coldest and wildest days of my life.

Paradelle for Sebastian

We left LA under a sky that was corpse pale and covered in bruises.

We left LA under a sky that was corpse pale and covered in bruises.

I never blamed you for the weather.

I never blamed you for the weather.

And I never was under that corpse we blamed for bruises.

Pale in the LA weather, you left a covered sky.

Driving and splashing, I was in love.

Driving and splashing, I was in love.

With your cold world and hung over friends.

With your cold world and hung over friends.

And cold love hung over your driving world.

And I was splashing in with friends.

I think we all expected a rainbow that weekend, but no.

I think we all expected a rainbow that weekend, but no.

Why did you write so many sad songs?

Why did you write so many sad songs?

We all, that sad, write a no weekend rainbow.

But I did think you expected so many songs. Why?

We blamed a splashing weather for many love songs.

We expected that cold weekend corpse.

But why did I never think that world was sad, driving all your friends with you and I?

You write in the pale hung sky.

And was I so over under covered?

No, LA left a rainbow in the bruises.

Hibernation

Hibernation

The earth, warm, breaks beneath my body
Crumbles and clings in the creases
Of my palms.
He wakes, the dust
Like snowflakes on eyelashes.
Come out of hibernation, love
Uncoil, unfurl the flag of us
The red-rock-desert-you-and-I:
Lizards between stones.

This is an elemental morning
Of wheat and worn faces
Of sun, cold stars,
And slowly-rousing spirits.
Come out of hibernation, love
I stretch my fingers to
His glowing skin.
The earth (so warm) breaks
Beneath my body.