past Beltane, eating my apathy...

painting by Michael Hutter ©

Prometheus and tinkering by monkey fucking realities

i want a strong spirit

a lip puckering-ly dry desert

squalor pale leaping erode

why was it that i wanted

abyss kissing as an afterthought

my soul a hole where a body used to be

a ghost residue of burn and taking time for tea

i know the names of the saints

in the hymnal chant and prayer books

the lemon seed oil rubbed dark grains

wear thin pants to feel bone pressed

hewn wondered hard wood can become

part relic and savior portal harbor

slip and berth empty bodies

and shells without the continuity

and community of a soul in the tides

in our inanimate carriage

of time already served...

a bit of a spirit remains

akasha-laden five fingers

five points of light, the fight

in each pair of our eyes

always depends on the size

of our will and intention

to take chances

at tables and dark places

mete- meeting metal ores,

temporaneous grasses

and fruit bearing trees

the wind and the rain

carry the explanations

and identities

mirrors and mirrors

windows and walls...

you, yes you

the needed observer

are piloting this particular universe

crept quiet trying

to steal fire too

finding a way back

to the womb again

so, the crows and ravens

hide the divides

eating my poisons

by liver-ed chains

and mentions

of intestinal distress

i guess you know

my name by now

crag seeking a view

from what is here

for your eternities…

EJR ©