How Far From Where It Came

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.