Thursday, March 24, 2011
Because if I do not who will know the inside? out shown outridden. But you are all gold lightening in a warm forest night screeching owls oh. Without whirlpools little pools of light on such cheeks and lucklips who will know moonlight. No one to see it, and eyes like orbs unseen invisible and indivisible. That is why. I wear. Cotton and gold lining, robes of ever aging forever like draping the coolcurtains of your bright eyes, too bright, there is just too much too bright. Have I got you have I allured by word worldly so stunning in awe all the many syllables of heart turned gold. How big is your. Vocabulary? I am so stunning stunned I am so. Soon the child will make his – yes – it is, that his moan cry hungering still running through shapes of the warm forest. Think I am crazy because I. Don’t. Like an onion it has so many vitamins, but don’t kiss me! up and down my neck invisible impalpable I seem alone do I? But underneath my clothes (let me tell you a secret) I am not wearing. Surprise? In the warm forest bodies are everywhere, many of them cooling, been gotten, been had, been laid out. To dry. Tree limbs so warm in the night how? They are all reaching for. The poor child’s wet eyes so wideopen so willing full of laughcryhot open wanting. So un ash-amed. Not many upgrowns the big trees will say yes when you ask when and when and. When you ask why there are still so few who will say anything, I know I am one of them. Quailmeat in my hands, on the fire, fire coming tomorrow lighting the endless deserted matchhead of this pinprick earth. Stubborn I have seen the light. Who are you now have you changed can I address you at the foot of the sooty mountain, face covered in black ash I can taste it and the fourleggeds stubborn near me and covered in ash unmoving except for the spitting wind from the mountaintop and Abraham silent in the hot cloud. Aaron impatient, stubborn. Moses coming glowing impatient, stubborn. No one got where they were going except a couple boys, too young to be stubbled still but so strong in their eyes and their mouths set firm, mouths that tasted the green things of that place no one else saw. Miriam’s song I almost remember it it is shining so clearly, forever. What if I have no. Or get red in the. Face me, or can you would it kill me. What it musthave, for you hearing the song you saw ends of, saw stubborn wills set counter before wills were. Your cloud cool for hot heads and fire warm for coldsouls, evermelter. Nothing more wanted than burning here, ashcovered, what it must be like to see me clinging the cliffskirt, full in that instant with all desire but sosoon (you see and onlyyousee) eyes off, running away. Simon said. I will. You said. Will you. You know that I. It breaks my quailmeat hot heart and the crusty coolhead to hear the sweetsongmany of moments’ praise, raised up to you who know their end, who see the ashes of tongue and teeth that them sing, singing over and over again but never. Enough. For? Ashchildren kneeling on rockknees at mountainfeet. I see storms all over your face? set toward. And turned and said. These things. Happening to? Whom your stubborn mouthfull friends. I understand you when I see storms in your eyes but who are you in the clear skies? ask the splintering rock Do you Fish in your hand but my stomach growling howling is crushed by the stones of notknowing your kind eyes I want to find a mountain to kneel at I need a black mountain I know the ashes I know them not this man on the beach haunting me with an innocent question and kind eyes.