how far from where it came, this upright man?
a world of fish more pleasntly aroused?
it has no bones to pick nor does it dare
to kick and scream
to cut in half it\'s years
the lure of pure hypothesis
kiss as if it moves about the plural of absurd.
were it to rain the thirteenth day of bloom
all leaves become one tongue to strike me down
and disembowel the organs of this ordinary day.
how bored the sound of bells, there dull and bitter brown
still I sleep outside with a keepsake, a sacrificial flame
of all things bright and beautiful. and lame
an upright man
how far from where it came?
gods promise to the light
is there no name of which you answer to?
will you sing with me the waters of a song
baptise me with the dirt that cannot sin or decompose?
I will read again all letters from your grave
chant your name through a choral evensong
and trade your soul for a vinyl cigarette.