turquoise translucent bathes

its wonderful foes in carnage,

a savage resolution, left on the field

by the jugular of a stuck pig:

"And I will waste no more time

wondering how to save you"




disappear from flames, and nails

no longer amount to wax

or conclude things by the making of rope

from sand, charmed with


"And I shall pass through no more

locked doors"



sometimes I am prolonged

and incorrigible; never am i

sacrosanct; I reap

my butter candies from the dulcet

virgin-white flowers of pear trees --- buds

like the unquenched seats

of an angel's underthings.



underlying movements

reveal them to me:

"And I shall no longer drag your memory

through the valley of shadow"

Clutching in my other hand

A teddy bear.