| The West got the rest it deserved
|
| Drowning under oysters
|
| Sailing on disappearance
|
| Underwater
|
| But infallible the blossoms
|
| In the far night
|
| Under the tabernacle
|
| The mermaids drift joylessly
|
| Queer metermaids
|
| Snapdragon elves
|
| Invert against Æons
|
| That guided missiles
|
| Into the Alchemist’s home
|
| The credit card is cancelled
|
| The Storm-her eye on the sores
|
| And the eyes and ears
|
| Of wild blind eyes
|
| The buckethome
|
| Of the unready phrase
|
| Grand marsh of the ⲛⲓϥⲉ
|
| «Night! |
| Death! |
| Storm! |
| Omega!»
|
| The traffic lights flicker out at Mamre
|
| The last thing I saw were your eyes
|
| They were as loud as stars
|
| As mute as the twilight sinking
|
| Over the olive tree
|
| Licking flames from the burning bush
|
| Scales stairs always up
|
| The monsoon was driven by the storms
|
| Into the valleys
|
| By chic tombs the swallows drift
|
| Ironic to their end
|
| The kittens fill turquoise cages
|
| In time to the milkmaid’s slow calling
|
| Pain in the plough in the fields
|
| The green greedy fields
|
| Bleed lace and dream
|
| Machines and chips
|
| And Aladdin’s wires
|
| The alleluia buzzes
|
| Brimming with sounds of storms and vowels
|
| As voiced by the deaf
|
| On the palates the shapes and their heads
|
| Like berries lush in the summer
|
| We were all ready to drop
|
| The sound of the storm was spears
|
| Ripped phrases from the First Garden Log
|
| Sensational news! |
| «The nudes lift shields for war!»
|
| But swivel and bank to the left
|
| Breast bared the amazon
|
| And blind lens shuts over rivers
|
| Hovering illly over the mist
|
| The cataract approaches might in grins
|
| Growls borrowed histories
|
| Maps are scored and scraped
|
| Debris, white pens, rust, root
|
| Swarf, machines, bad faith
|
| To Us
|
| Us
|
| Us
|
| Us
|
| The clouds drown in mists
|
| Covers the sow, the bristle
|
| The tiny mouth huddled
|
| In the box of blisters
|
| Floods comics of bibles |