If I Take No Turn

if i take no turn,

on not the greeting bent as ever was;

when calmed the nerves; claimed all who wasn't i.

i pay no price to bubble blood,

nor fidgit tree-limbed centred to the space.

the sea has flown,

from nest to stomach pastures ever new;

to shovel gravel tame as i am vine,

dragging nail and the tailing wind;

the fasting eyes in the hungry head,

kiss me dead

and breathe alone one stranger at a time;

if i take no more,

not once more can i ask,

nor splice the apple green as Adam's tongue.

i have rubbed my tickles dry,

graphed my skin one movement in a still.

hill to earth one wagon-ride as the cow-bell hides,

no sentiment nor sentence, red as written word,

will bird my brain an auction lot,

cross palm and Sunday hacksaw on my wrist;

and praise me be, one stranger less each time;

if i take no mind,

no mind can take away,

nor sleeve my arms one second more to chance;

a flying frog on a hogs back picking skin,

if i dare no sign,

no sign dare let me in;

no promise made to he i do not know,

nor she, both mothers to the wound;

if i take too soon,

too soon i give away;

on not the greeting bent as ever was;