Tuesday, August 18, 2009

the spider veins
the ocean waves,
constantly crashing to regain their speed.
David departed to the cave,
the prison,
the forest.
He heard the heavens
rejoicing in each place.

backyard performances
whispered things to come, but
a prophet has not the same duty as a surgeon!
one cannot edit,
an artist in detail!
default, default, default-
a man you are, not a worm!
you do not crawl, you
sit upright under the
slow hum of
the spring that passes over you.
each deity is crashing down,
each a skeleton in a garden
weeping bones
cleansed arteries
food for the living
forever undead.
we can hide from the peacock feathers,
we can bury ourselves
under the arch of a footbridge,
but our bones are not silenced!

a place to hide
in a stone,
where our blood is
and each word,
a profit.

astute knowledge,

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