the seraphim
standing sentinel
at the chain-link fence
round the jungle of eden
are not vegetarians
just picture god’s
mouth water when
she thought of sizzling
lamb fat at the altar
remember that angel of death?
probably certain people
have hearts lighter
than god’s – well – no
i guess god has the power
of self-absolution, tricky tricky
if anything in heaven
if one single thing has
a mouth, just knock me
out, i’d rather sleep through
eternity than listen to more chewing
a powdery crescent daymoon rises
in the north, and the sky is fragile, and
cold, and quiet of birds – snow melts
into the dirt with a sound like vinyl
sizzling under the needle and footsteps
beat like muffled mallets over the deerskin
head of the ground in no particular
rhythm, in no particular hurry
an insistent vacuum-black moon rises
to dot out the sun, and the sky is fragile, and
cooler, and the night frogs begin their
confused choruses unconfidently, if we
can say anything as complicated of the frog,
while the locusts call to one another
dispassionately, automatically, and unafraid
and i am indoors, asleep, like some dumb bird
the trees’
fingertips dance
like dark green spanish skirts,
like a ripple of millipede
legs: breeze
Time stood
Trembling: little
Insomniac, thunder
Ing eyes still slumbering like tithes
On a
Seatide
Sand coins scattering – stressed out of
The pockets of Triton
Astoundments: nine
Thousand
autumn
icaruses
littering the groundscape
yucca crowns adorned with feathers
drying
dark hangs
like chandeliers
unlit, still as a stare,
cased in the pitch of this moment
dark grows
geodes
never-glitter in the pitch black
helplessness of the dark
(((try as light might)))
dark rule
Four twins
Intersect at
The black autumn crossroads
Each shows the other a dead phone
Brooms wait
tracer(s):
light speck(s): firefly
train(s) of mote ‘cross the bed-
spread(s): a time-sliced world of stave(s) and
barline(s)
Lucent
Morning – no edge
Taken off the limit
Of anything yet – bright, pink, peach
Light-warmth
pressing mind to cool millstone
grinding rills become rivers
shivering crests give way to
frightening troughs and dark dips
dripping with needle-tipped stones
falling water will kill time
growing stalagmite meets mind
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