Treasures of Deceipt

it is the waiting at the gate. as a noon fog burrows through the sun;

the mistress of lesser light. leather for liver

salmon run in the bosom of the cockroach

heart without flavour. saver of cheapened walls

painted nails of fingers without the point

men for the taking. an aching with an itch.

jewels to the grave;

in the heat of a blinking eye. ice on ice. whiskey on a bruise.

in her Sunday best. in his Monday mood of travel

lessons in the manacles of the spit. preachers pet

blood on blond. grey on wrinkled rust

form without shade. shade without colour

basket for the sperm. casket for the honour

rapeseed for the cremation of ;

on a midnight eve before the sanding of morning wood

before betrayal. thirteen lines of dust on dust

through passageways of procedure. stars of forty nights

it has taken forty days to teach this semen of the mouth

to honour deceit. to prolong love. to dismember the ears

of she of the quiet pretence. he of the master of voice

prayers upon layers of blood;

Oh he of little faith. she of no faith at all

tall stands the pillars of their empty demise

pregnant to the mangrove tree. father to the thorn

she is the daughter to the church. he is the farthing to the penny

carved upon the stone. part horse. part of something else

repent for repents sake. for the pleasure of the ebb.

will well endow the beast;