LESSONS

Henry Angelo’s ghost came by when I slept
And, to keep his hand in, taught me fencing

In a dream. My father and his father too
Flew when they dreamt. My mother’s relatives

Who, like Stonehenge’s pillars,  are uncountable
Include a rabbi who obeyed the law of gravity

When he remembered.

                                       I cannot fly, awake
Or dreaming. "Those without flight," said Angelo,
"Must learn to defend themselves." The lessons
Only work in my dreams. There, I use a rapier well
And, less deftly, a saber. Nights in Booble Alley
I use a katana with which I am competent only.