A door opens on Lorca standing with his back to the camera
in a courtyard in Spain wings protruding from the shoulders
of his white linen suit on the front lawn of my childhood home
a door opens on maple trees filled with light I sing to them
and angels appear in the upper branches in the deserts
of Venus a door opens on a pale horse turning pink
in the rosy glow of the setting sun all that is stalled lifts off
in dreamsbirds of ruby glass alight on the pilings of a pier
over the Hudson a door opens on the palms of my hands
scarred with hearts and wands crosses, glyphs, and planets
assuring my good fortune to get lost in a movie palace circling
a sarcophagus filled with sand from the Valley of the Kings
deep in outer space a door opens on Neil Young the sky pilot
flying from point to point to fire the stars with a gas torch
igniter and all that is stalled lifts off in dreams

On a bed rimmed with flowers and the yellow pollen that glistens
on my skin in the dark I lay me down on cool white sheets
on a pillow with a key of gold I lay me down to open the doors
where all that is stalled lifts off in dreams

A door opens on a courtyard deep in outer space
in the palms of my hands the night opens at last