Sunday, May 11, 2008

Vacana of Between 


my bird pecks at the hand 
muse pecks at the seeds 
she pecks  to shape rough 
edges ledges
where the iron monkey used to lean
dangle freely as a rough stone
yet to tumble in the froth of the wild 
reaching the delta to build banks of sand
scooped up from broken hour-glasses

my bloody hands build a fire 
 steady hands build with a smile 
hands build  to shape change
weaving  meaning 
the cicada guides the flight of the cock
with dragon tears dancing like loplop

thank you for the blood
O spirit of between 
so much better 
with a muse in the hand 
than a dousin birds on my roof 
lining power poles and shitting 
at your peering eye as you walk 
thank you for the blood and hope

No comments: