In the Darkness, Footsteps

What world am I in?
Who named oblivion?
Who called it Lebanon?
The waters, snows, the moon?
The silence that bent the spoon?

The pin between the toes
Reaches the iridescence
Of undiscovered rose
Exploding.

Somewhere in the darkness,
Footsteps,
And in the daylight none,
Only invisible voices
From bunkers of cloud and plume,
And the sails of the hurricane
Carving at ravenous rock
And talons of yellow smoke,
And one slow cone

Growing and winding to one
Fuming gulf of lava
Dissolving deserts to silt
And silt to glass and salt,
And whoever’s left to make
A flambeau of the minutes
To put out the stars,
Somewhere.

In the foreign darkness,
Footsteps.
What world am I in?
Slam! go the toes
On the stalking iridescence
Of unexploded rose . . .