THE GAMECOCK

A foil-thrust of light,
yellow light, red light.
In the fight, a shot
of radiant feathers.
Energy decked out
from crest to tail
—amber, gold, velvet—
opulence that molts
heroicaly  (sic) silent
in shout-filled arenas.
Luminous wheel traced
round the clucking hen,
open his plume cape
cloakingly stretched…

Rooster, cock of the tropics.
Beak distillery of dawns.
Congealed lightning bolt.
Dazzling palatte (sic).
Plumed rum to quench
the sweltering Island defiant!