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Corpuscles that loosen in the spring
will open a garden on tar
roofs paved up to the faint air
runnels snoring of confused waters
winding their way down from the peaks of our babylon
where we collect life's substance in tanks
where no one swims
and send it down on lime, to spray
the faces of those who expected death.

Trim after trim of female feathers
on high drugs or removed to a clean afterlife
watching the passions scatter like ocean clad lights
into emergency rooms
the eyes windshield impaled by violin
and the ribs like chords breaking
we watch on this tanned stoop
our beards growing out through us
from the calendar that was murdered
in an old forest, where the women rested like warheads
and here they wait like switches
to torture the inanimate into perfect being.

Glycoside society mouths on rails of salt
or frozen satin towards
a silence arcing wide
for those who've never halted to listen,
doppelgangers at breakfast, in vests of mercury:
everywhere we sit among them becomes
the location of a religious service
all the ceremonies that have left us dazed are there
pillars bristling into carbide flower
to make a high play for your heart,
that word that's finally killed
the organ and the core
your heart, your heart, your astrophysical heart.