may 2022

 

                           (i)

 

…listen only to the opinions of stones

to dissertations rising from the sands

 

let the talking-heads go

let the blue tongues find their own peace

 

for once let your silence be explicit

because you are that expanding mania

 

that ruthless, pushy iconoclast

who sweeps aside all first-born stars

 

you are that other infinity

the unnerving quiet

 

that holds everything together

yet splits everything apart

 

the apocalypse in the palm of every hand

with no memory, no compassion

 

a struggling, terrifying bird

pushing at your clenched fingers

 

the nervous you, the silent you

watching the blue tongues rise from the sand

 

and when, finally, your fingers are forced open

all hope is swept aside…

 

 

 

                             (ii)

 

…and now the megafauna, the old bull mastodons 

are again on the move

 

spearheads, columns

each overburdened with innocence

 

propaganda, zeal 

hurrah, hurrah

 

such are these tears of rust

such are these tears of rape 

 

the guttural bulls 

the human bulls

 

pushing souls back down into the ground 

heavy with innocence

 

this earth

this glorious earth

 

overcome with cunning 

with the dark zeal of those millions

 

who blast the ground into the clouds 

for such are these sperm gods

 

these prehistoric egos

on the move, yet again, to nowhere…

 

 

 

                          (iii)

 

…such murky lines as these

such secretive beads of sweat

 

the shedding of my skin

down onto the page

 

this inky ecdysis

this thin existence

 

cicada me

viper me

 

sliding between the sounds

the universe guiding my fangs

 

the overbearing hunger

which fills the sky

 

this scent of prey

of verses never written

 

waiting to be found

such beads of sweat as these

 

the old me 

the new me

 

never written, never seen

a shadow always hiding in the air…