July 24, 2016

........................... what if She had just eaten Remus and Romulus


 photo by portraithaus ©
http://portraithaus.de/




the desert kingdoms 
would still be 
southern hinterlands 
whereas the Alps 
had kept the wolves 
mostly at bay 
and there were the sometimes 
when Her young mothers got lost 
on the way 
to pack life adulthood 
so if they had wandered 
down into the fields 
and groves 
they could then 
find suckle 
guidance to feed 
upon orphans 
left as tribute 
at the grotto 
for humans 
still believed 
in sacrifice 
back then ...

provisional chancellor I will not sign your oath of condemnation 
condom nation slip rubber rain coat duck shoes were chic 
once or twice in the eighties we found campy 
was cool enough to hide 
behind and vacate the soul for shallow 
but indivisible means 
of and to an end means 
fathoming farthing fathering less 
the carriage cost of contractual 
obligation relegation supremacy 
eugenics on the news stand 
the band strikes a match 
and the whole shooting works 
is junky body parts all blown to bits 
with plop flesh rain where gut drops sit 
damn it eye fell 
asleep wheel clay-ing wings again 
pretending glaze kiln wish factories 
were real places, they aren't ...

but for the pretty designs 
our own wet slip silt pottery makes 
when smashing the ground ... 

scatter wink led bells 
shards and long bows 
a pitcher with ornate 
forest motif 
we once filled 
with water 
for the plants 
we kept shelved 
in the foyer ... 

I'll spend  
the entire 
ends of time 
in poem ...

I'll be looking 
over edges precipices 
falling onto points 
hooking whoop-sy daisy(s) 
hope you got the claims in correctly baby(s) 
in my best annotated appetizer self hypnotism ... 

the risers 
behind the pulpit 
are where the chorus 
stands and sings ... 

and sing they do 
all the ways to Heavens 
and back to heard 
and herded, listening 
listing slow tide 
moonlight again ... 

it was Sunday morning 
and I could smell dinner afterwards in words, worlds 
of smells and slow rebounds back to our little Hells 
we rang bells tells we were tolls, we paid each going tithe weight 
our moral letting off(s), we let the liquor and gravy hit it 
afternoon tuned to evening when service was over 
in our minds ...

pre-seeing the ways 
prey prays payment 
to glass laying still 
for something 
patterned in almost ... 

the impact point 
is the shattered 
and mattered 
what of us 
when given back 
wind and host 
use most of ...

pieces 
smashed 
broken 
trashed 
downed 
amassed 
aggregates 
spit with 
amoeba bites 
as it is its 
and ours 
in littlest bits 
what are 
we looking at ...

the sand fine hewed air 
is my ripened bleeding 
my humanity fallen down 
into all the eventually(s) ... 

the seas are 
ever hungry 
to tame and eat 
every mountain 
with their rivers 
their tongues reach 
sky and eons 
ancient poems 
long tines, currents 
haint driven winds 
climbs and repose ... 

I suppose 
we remember 
each time 
our bones 
jump in 
I know 
our 
souls do ... 


EJR ©

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