The carte-de-visite was the portrait of yourself
in the 19th century.
You'd have one produced if you could,
and it would have a tagline or a motto.
Sojourner Truth's carte-de-visite
read, I sell the shadow to support the substance.
This poem is called "New Romantics."
When I was growing up in the '80s,
New Romantics in the world of music
was a crossover of R & B and pop.
Think El DeBarge.
And there's a reference to Saint Sebastian.
You know, he's always painted and pictured
in the ecstasy of his own death.
So he's looking away with the arrows in his body.
"New romantics out the windshield.
Quinoa amber light fronds wave up the hill and back.
Up dancers raise stocking knees to the left.
Describe the world.
New romantics sing precise of them women inside me
are grown heads against the glass.
Saint Sebastian displayed to the moon, petrifies.
Go loping snout-free, fuzz out the night, the pacific.
Go louder.
Every tree, a channel to talk in.
Eucalyptus peel lined the road.
Eucalyptus oil on blushing wildfire, and salt blows back.
An orange is feeding my daughter.
She reached up you said, peppermint tea fog
against your ribs.
The door hung-- so possible.
Her long feet, walking a new constellation down the city,
run to catch up.
Fog, turn away the night.
Night, turn away the moon.
Moon, turn away so we can see it.