a compendium of beast-parts
don't you want to play?
it's only three beats away
you'll fall between the cracks
of tracery you meant to devour
a bonebox reliquary of
finest filigree
seven alphabets but only one language
no one to listen to you recite
a sentence about the world's loudest stalagtite
musciality amounts to plundering
the silence ThoughtHoldsDear
adding to your text, sewing on your
garment the silk hem in which is hidden
all secret scraplings of photos, lovenotes, threnodies,
jumbled rainbow threads,
a stitchery of slashed circlets meaning ever new lines
the threads of the saris of
one hundred thousand yoginis and
bikhshunis stitched into
a rainbow bonnet for the
arhat maha.
a text is
just that
a holy hat
sheltering a halo-headed
maniac like you.
Unsteady to begin anew
such labor under a bridehead
visioning questions all nonsensical
and no further inquiries allowed
permit me voyage into countermanded
lands...
a pale metal sinks into silk
yellow shimmer without a name
WritingDubuffetsTitles | ISBN 82-92428-29-1