Sep 02, 2005 10:26
the kingfish swallowed swords
that night walking
across
coals
the fisherman found his father
in the minnow
impaled
by
hook
a strong left
a gust of belly laughter
a rusty pole in a tool
shed
somewhere
every photograph shows
only
eyes
a peacock feather winks at the
walrus
tusk
that opaque green glass smell
you could never
stand
without tapping those toes and
rising
forth
from the chamber depths of
your
temple
risen
rows of rhubarb in a
barefoot
garden
left unguarded save the
shrews and shakespeares
speaking
e v e r s o
s l o w l y
september tumbling
like polished rocks
collecting dust in a
borrowed basement
that
still
holds
the smoke of
camels
in every ray of dusty light
pouring in through carpeted
windows
a mother's mouth
falls
open
it
is
happening