for what we unearth,inside what we dig into ourselves...a new Antigone poem

Antigone has gone on ahead

what throes,my madness

letting go 

to where the words 

poke my eyes out 

with their sharp 

burning spears,

I leave the universe 

my heart sleeved writing jags,

frenzied time,

between faithless and divine,

where's the beast,

where the tine,

stabbing sinew,

tearing columns,

neck blood mixes 

with mud 

on a potter's wheel

cups my poison

drinks my feel

 EJR (c)