July 11, 2011

gravity feeds to its circles

releasing the graveyard cornucopia of time...

inside the pearls of midnight's approach
I can find where the ease of a day
nears release and with the nadir of a breeze
the air hangs moist and cleaved
where arms might just wrap themselves
around the passing of the guard,
emmissary and scout mattress in hand
wait on the turn of a paddle fan
and the slow loosening of a mechanical world
resists sleep as I am
with my drink and hand-rolled
the tolled slow rhythm
of breathing in sighs and relief
releasing what had been up tightly held
too close to see whatever was now
another insect invisible
somewhere else in the near dark...

that is all the flies know how to do, I muse
lighting up sound with the crickets
and the pickets pointing parades of
laced light and pierced nights
pacing memories amidst queen anne's face
dropping a crimson tear in the sea dollops
white and roadside rise milkweed lies
the king of solemn heights wise
leaning and yellowing towards
where the sky begins
to find cracks of skin
like an Earth turned on her side
her hide waiting for the rooves
to whisper the Autumn is coming,
time to brush back
the scattered leaves first
to heave themselves
in the oldest of fires
that burns
the sugar
and the blood
beating heart
the parts of me
kept moving
in slow
circular desire
headless eyeless
and one with the ashes
and wind again eventually...

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