Five Days But Still

five days but still. each righteous hand of the glow-wood

pardons and sections the painted ears of the unseen.

what day the young predict? so the mispelt mime

will grimace and rage and charge with the flesh key.

how old the tallest circle of the red bean?

that centres it's own self worth and fills our senses dry.

scissors and shapes. cut leaves. the square mole's hood on twig

pacifies the salsify. grows a second head. swims a mango flood.

not if but when. the high tail stings and rings it's crop bell true.

how true intent? how true the wise? how full their berries gut?

we have streamed our canyons rice. powdered it's bones. shed its fetus skin.

                    (for the lord is our shepherd we shall not want)

a third eye on the third rock of the sun beast.

what side the truth of veal? the corked month. the green limp minutes tick.

what slice of day will pull and prod the servant spoon?

what taste the hungers blood? the boiled speech. the sea-side sprout.

only the trimmed cats tail will wag it's flavoured breath.

should we anger the weeds? or flower the fleas on their chins?

each sinners prayer. each summit to conclusion.

                  (for thyne is neither power nor intrusion)

be dead. be buried. be less a burdon on the grained death.

be the eyes of the distant squeal.

the vein to the labours of the long stem child.

be the god of the laundered notes for the saviours song.

the mother to the starving child in a dead womb;

                   (for ours is both power and the glory...

                                                                             ... on the midnight moon)