your indecision
rotates like a spinning top
in orbis terrarum;
ex nihilo nihil fit.
post-quotational phrases
have deeper foundations.
spilling upwards
through a well
the salt of the earth is rising
and the shallow sea
has no more room for salinity
if your sister becomes a witch
it is likely she will paint herself
in arcane woad
and scratch your arms until they bleed
long-fingernailed, she sits in the bathtub
and waits - having no skill for prophecy -
meanwhile crystalline trees of salt spurt
softly from the drains & windows
all becomes a fathomless white morass:
christmas in july.
No comments:
Post a Comment