One time in Boston I banished you to the front hall closet
And convinced myself I hated you
And wanted to have a baby more
So I tried that.
For five years you waited quietly
Shut up in your case
Amongst the drab winter coats
Confident I would return
The baby didn’t happen
But I did see Jimi play at Monterey
In a documentary on TV and saw
Another way that love could be
It has to do with enormity
Like Jimi’s hands or a gift’s demand
To surrender and pay whatever the cost
No matter the sum
And wreck your life if need be
In a fire of feedback and fuzz tones
Fueled by the flame of a fierce artistry
Hotter than the sun
I hung an orange feather boa
Like the one Jimi wore in California
Around my neck
Opened the closet door and took you in my arms.