Monday, December 8, 2014

HEART THREAD Parts Eighty-Five and Eighty-Six


Every page is precious especially the blank
the story here is her round face her round eyes wet
nothing more to say hence ready to begin again
a man is a wheel on a mountain road
I’m talking tantra but to an empty room
xenolith they built the structure on as if to say
earth gives us something like a day
where is nurture in all this where is Bernini
the woman shape that taught us how to pray
boys in the clouds hair comes through the hat
the sun moves secretly from house to house
but no one knows the father.


The breeze knows these
legends of the mother-house
her hands pressed firmly on the territory
noises annoy her most
no one’s children clattering in grass
and in the sky they mow the clouds
the mother-house is guilty of the sun
she made it cooked it over pine cones in her cave
till it glowed ardent hell and hydrogen
then she sent it to the sky to measure us
mind us little children and a rock she spat up too
to light our nights from tryst to tryst.