251.
Let’s do it yesterday
for music’s sake the angel facing
backwards
there is something of sulfur in the
rose
a petal fallen laid along the skin
no other fact can slip past it
natural affinity of rose with flesh
of thorn with mind
the prick of thinking
trickle of blood along the flesh
break the sentence open it will bleed
Scriabin saw his word in color in the
sky
a fatal rose that knows so many.
252.
Something true about defilement
wrong tool for the right job
or dawn full of feathers fallen
from some legendary bird you never
saw
but these things fly their kind is to
come
close and touch you while you sleep
you say O my dream but it eats you
disdains your sorry meat
touch defiles
that’s why we need it
we come into this dance so pure
no one can remember his father.
