be strong disheveled entity
with church and empire fused to throne
who strays to bundle hay on cockrells\' back
now god has summoned horse-reel tooth and stone
but not for she nor the virgin on her back
(to die to rise above the slack)
to pen with papered sword one village black
for man and mule to hack bell-peppers horn;
be strong the pilgrims plight on primrose hill
that stills the cancers borrowed bouys from the chained sea
for boy and me to age as sinking skin
beneath gods robe of lambs-tongue krill and tailored suit
sail whip-lash through the bladder of the eyes
to channel apes to pentogram of weed
to seed the doubled coin of headless shrimp;
it is time to summer oak a winters tale
now I have see the reaper grim as merrowed edge
a fledgling combing fabric of my bed sheet
I have made no pledge to dress as death nor creature
comfort high adoring eyes on the knuckled meat
to weave behind the bell-hook incarnation
to be as one with the undead giant bloodborne;
be still be calm these seas that fuel my blood-itch
now I have seen the reaper grin and bare his idle hands
for the touching of the sacred scarecrows country glands
to swell my windows crave for tree of fig: