Waiting For Alignment

She says to watch the waves. The tides are mixed, we wait for alignment.
It could take years….and in the meantime my bones slap against the equator.
The water is low.
Fish flop belly up with baby jelly beans dangling in reverse….the tide is turning.

Zenith encourages direction. I am vertical; midheaven.
God is intersecting.

What house do I belong in?
Am I breast and bone?
Am I flesh and blood?
Am I fire and system?

She says to watch the waves. We can go from there. The sun must first come
over the horizon. I strain East. I feed on the ecliptic axis and wait 90 degrees
like suggested. I wait

until I fall beneath the Earth. X lives here. X is virulent and understood.
X is ability and invasion.

She says I have to learn how to be with the disease. Who I am is bound
and fruitless. I will never find alignment when I greet
X in such short periods. X will never release the bacteria and set me
back on land,
on shore,
on sea,
where I can wait with the tides for alignment,
and drown out the suffering.

Janus

By doorways and walls, I pass through
with two faces. I am honoured
and assassinated by fruits and
seeds of the people.

They move their lips, I hear deep shrills.
They whisper like big cannons
at battle. I keep each as a sacred
stone; I throw each as a poisonous tale.

Today, God loves my motion. I merge with
Galileo under seven planets
I am his Dialogue on the Ebb and Flow of the Sea.

But tomorrow will take me suspiciously.
Medusa will come to show
the bogus end of Venus and her beautiful phase.

White weasels come in pack, they smell her
insidiousness; she sits coy on my tongue
while I am categorized.

Back to square rooms, black chairs,
flat carpet,
doorways,
walls,
I pass through with two faces.
I am honoured by amber vials,
assassinated by the pills.

They move their lips,
I hear fuzziness and laughter…
quit laughing at me
quit laughing at me
I am a statue,
I am trapped here.