Dog Clouds

Great dark dog clouds
Scream, screaming, barking
Along the whole Western horizon
In a prodigious uproar of mad goodbyes
To the city and burning embers
That the sunset slowly unravels in its high abyss
They bark at the red, grey colors
At your colors' God, the colors of your coronation
My coronation, and night at the colors of your home
At your colors with no other name or destiny
And the present beauty; dark or clear
Succeeding beauty; dark or clear
Which is the same
In the semiosis of our grace
You contain yourself by restraining me
What a miraculous tongue; the Sun, night having fallen
Raises, in those cloud dogs
What a tongue of unity, which forces you and me, like them
To shout of love of glory, of joy, to shout also of dark joy
What a religious tongue where the dog and you and I become one
Within a movement of glorious expression