Tuesday, December 6, 2011

at land, soldier

it's always a shore
where you find yourself
borne here maybe

bury half my head in
lukewarm gray sand while
snuffling blind sea mammals
nudge my sides, whisker the flesh
of my hips, rush salty wet air
in my exposed blue blinking eye

i could thrash til i burrow under,
soak, logged, and with this pressure
be ushered away as bits,
as grains in wee mandibles

i could just begin with i love,
i could just let these gulls take my eyes
and i could climb, could say
remember the first time you broke
along the fault lines, called it art,
could feel a fear of cold

call an eagle down to carry me,
bring me dinner, feed me meat,
you could ring my bell, bell,
my belly knows its grip;
i'm tired of throwing it up,
my guts all fluttering sore tatters

a bluff, i fold,
this is just a demonstrative iteration,
a dualness and hunger that chugs along
like dawns, warms my ice teeth,
quells my eruption some

here on this mountain
i have always been
your smiling oracle,
beseeching, seek me

No comments: