A path I started cuts
through my guts on its way
to the altar of fire.
What are words in the woods,
what are limbs in the sea
of thought?

Hallowed blood surrounds me.
I am faked by the fundamental
thrust of the universe.
Urged to lose my vessel
to the immortality of others
finally I take my words out
of the clown's ears
and tumble down the stairs
out of the world's apartment house
and onto a green brown back street
singing for love of expecting none
walking in a stalemate's heart
with doorless hands
unstuck from the time of blood
by an embarassed price
crop of eyelids
orbs basking in a syrup of blindness
a weaponized void with cheers and whistles

push over a dawn's cracked wood
mushroom eyes on bent legs
crutch feet carrying a chair
the smiles and bellies and herbs on shelves
all going hurt to the remanufacture
relived by minerals and vitamin salt
to the root of the time-socked nostrils
and leaking pap.