October 21, 2012

poem 394 of a poem a day for 2012

hunting stagnation

hand to mouth
I crawl as a devil
with a hook art
I am hunting
in the woods
for soft tissue
over bones
my crooked smile
draws back
to where rhyme
is ancient longing
calling me to stab
at any shot I get
prodding me to see
just how undone
I have become

this is when
any moment can be
the pierce flight
of my arrow-ed intentions
when any moment can start
tracing fingers along
all the entryways
of my denials
and surrenders

this is where
my memory is
the long dark
flesh, splayed out
gutted and hung
on a rope
tight and taut
tied between two trees
with the rest of what
I want to forget
bleeding out

this is when
I go to my knees
and I drink the swill
and I spill what spoils
as a mark
on my face
I anoint my skin
back to its iron core
back to where
I am star dust
falling as insurrection
through gravity
for the shapes 
and sizes of me
through any chance
to sing another 
redemption song
I can be


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