Monday, November 5, 2012

A Truce With Its Bitter Stone Spirit

limbs up! limbs up! LimbsUptoTHEdeadenedAIR!
lavender fog between them to make a dirt like a painting
unframed in the air, of writing like a shaded porch
hung with lobes of tawny fat, and no mind to mind it//

clay pigeon
clay ralph
terracotta margins of the frame
limbs up! limbs up! across the valley of deep blue silts
limbs up! limbs up! LimbsUptoTHEdeadenedAIR!
body activate etruscan glands and reek of pollen

pollen bull
fog bull
terracotta to hold the sacred soil
some bits charred
others funghied
of writing like a forgotten amphitheater
hewn out of the wrok by lightning and rushing silt
hands of steel marbles far away
from these deep chalk grottos of melting limbs
yellowed with pollen, the writing of glands
of wild dogs in howling cones

limbs up! limbs up! LimbsUptoTHEdeadenedAIR!
Mycenae arcs to a pit lined in toyotas
clay words, silt plumbed and crescendoed

limbs up all hands
to the dirt, to the air
limbs up to no mind
all good

all bending