My Jericho, My Fable

my Jericho, my fable.

one length a city's sense my chrysalis.

what sense a promise, chance or otherwise?

in summer's eyes, blind famine in a six.

if six was nine

nine times as flesh as level all the same.

what sound is this, the curious, the wing?

all weathers spark as rolling sea's

from father to a rock.

good for all, the base of light

happy be the hunger of the groin.

no wound that sleeps one circle in a mouth

one mouth of stars

a dark unrest as mourns such innocence.

what cries through you and me?

blind days are these

my animals, my friends.

each truth, each dare, as distant as we are

comes light enough to ponder as we do.

we are as mad as Adam, poets you and I.

be dammed and drown the hunger of a soul.

give voice sais he of saviour and flood.

should earth grow loud for hollow ear and house

set sail before moves animals and birds.

how many minds have we, these visions sent.

man, machine, holy ghost of cobble-stones and luck.

men in white, be nimble.

if six was nine

what better view these eyes of porcupine;