Wednesday, September 19, 2012
you swinging your arms in massive arcs!
reaching for plagues and plagues.
i watch you in grainy video in slow motion
with my arm sleeves pulled to the elbow.
spittled at the pixilated monitor,
red and green and blue.
boxes know you better than I ought.
I thought about you Monday morning,
standing tall and filthy native.
some resurrection provided
mounds of dirt and holocaust you endowed and denied.
walking across the creakwood floor barefooted.
mean in a way. you reached out, knew there was nothing.
we’ll bury you on repeat.
we’ll bury you on repea.t
build a cross on your hollowed mound.
taller until it’s a symbol, the story larger than its myth.
God, how is this still you?
your fingers auctioned at cost.
ribs pawned across fingertip plexiglass.
your eyes, resemble the fawn.
pensive; you are sleeping.