Tuesday, April 02, 2013

Queen Panic

Everlastings.  The painted lady or thistle
pelvic girdle and posterior
appendage wrinkled into mountain ranges
by the pressure against each other
I brought a tragedy into existence
by watching the playground empty
then falling into a trash can:

100,000,000,000 birds face layer from the sides
from crest to equilibrium peoples and Babel languages
the number of waves passing a slave girl feeds on arrowweed
travels down the rope in complete vibration,
a cycle of a compact mass of coils
birds which feed icecaps to hum the colder regions
of the upper fore-limb awakening death's dawn
to glance on the flanks of an invisible ship,

a separate source of light--skull and blankets
these two sources overlapped in the region
behind the double vanity, a third screen,
these waves worktable rows of white spots

Not that the earth is alone, for as she belonged
to the drug and high-technology Sun, silver
to the Moon, copper to Venus, iron
to Mars, lead in his spare time, seeking order
to Saturn, tin to Jupiter low of loin
above crest, and lilac furrow

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