HANDS – THEY SHOOK AND THEN…
They futured like gods.
This hand (call it woman),
that hand (call it man)
togethered an applause.
Their fists of spider,
their architect fingers,
built patterns of gauze.
One blob (called embryo)
soon became elbows
attached to hands and jaws
that grew into prayers
to clapclapclap their heirs.
BELLUM PARTUM
And the whole earth with death and death-cries filled, My Lai,
Might long remember the face of suffering Dresden!
This is a battle hard to endure, and grim. Gaza Gaza Gaza
— Dorothy L Sayers tr The Song of Roland
Like zealots
coked on bullets,
the soldiers spread
metal sperm
into harems,
their birth of death.
The bomber
was in labor,
sucked a deep breath,
dropped her load,
her egg of blood,
her birth of death.
GRACELESSLY WAITING
Now, hum, chant, dust off the altar.
Calf’s already gutted for slaughter.
All I need now is the priestess.
“Just hold me in honor, hold me in awe,
my fine and gaudy mistress.
I pray you, Make me your god.”
But you released me, to wander
beyond the range of my hymns.
And left me here to conjure
you, incarnate, back from a dream.
So, carefully, I detail your temple
with incense to be purified.
But I’m running low on these candles
while watching the calfling putrefy.
DIRTY BLUES
Log on the fire burning into white ash.
Stick in fireplace turning into white ash.
When the fire’s cold, thrown out with the trash.
Used up, ejected, treated just like dirt.
Disposed, rejected, tossed out same as dirt.
One unravelling thread dooms the entire shirt.
Condom in the corner when the passion’s spent,
Tossed into the corner after love is spent.
One more unmourned dead soldier in the tent.
Expired, discarded, discharged just like dirt.
Damned and abandoned, swept out just like dirt.
Maybe not dead yet, maybe just hurt.
Mission finished, an empty toothpaste tube.
Purpose over, a used-up toothpaste tube.
Just gum on the fanblade after it’s chewed.
Tossed out, discarded, forgotten — just dirt!
Thrown out at the wedding, now I am dirt:
Left-over confetti lying in the church.
Log in the fire burning into white ash.
Wood on the fire turning into fine ash.
My steady warmth for you spurned in a flash!
Disposed, dejected, treated just like dirt.
Thrown out, ejected, treated worse than dirt.
One unravelling thread dooms the whole damn shirt.
BREEZES — GALES
My lifetrain went to pieces
when it jackknifed off the rails.
Buddha showed the eightfold path.
I lost it on the freeway.
I had memorized the prayers
but I couldn’t do the math.
Some others got the Jesus
but I got stuck with the nails.