from the highest God.
Wings that lift these towers
through the planes of ultraviolet smoke.
Skulls of articulate oil
threading pretzel oceans
with a train of internal fire.
Stones in the sanctuary of death
vomiting reeds and flowers.
The blackmail of the birth canal
and its graveyard of vines and cries.
Moss on the arm of an aircraft
spelling out my crucified name.
No comments:
Post a Comment