Tuesday, August 11, 2009

gimme that old time religion

sauvage (I know you don't like but let it spread
the world/weep for a ruminous presence in the channel
listen listen again to the codes that fly in
we are into it now this triangulation

I have you fixed . . . I approach at night
sleek and slick with oils of the body you nestle there

[insert Roy Orbison]

in the offset of dreams

in the whirl of out of date
no longer for consumption

a little glimmer

so we advance

into the third nest we go
huddle there
open mouths incapable of the merest flap
all of us finally aware & stark the moment

O you have fucked my girlfriend
or something
things like that

this how shoved tiny
we feel stuff
Charles Manson desperate to be loved
it all turning inward outward sour sick love

love me love me he cries he carves he craves
he cavorts there at the mind's edge cutting
swastikas of fucked love

even this holy hate is just love
as hunger
...........eating at itself like stuffpig

this what I mean
tiny complication
tower over us each morning in the sandstone
do you see
the little birds sedimented
sacrificial children
there in the frozen grit

quick before they melt away?


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