Monday, October 11, 2010


I came to it, / walking the concrete path / that my Grand-Father layed / to a place on the land of my family / decidedly where I, / undeniably no older than the age / when you learn to spell / C – A – T, / watched (what I remember / must have been a dozen of them-- / Mohawk and Little-Bit / and one taken early from it's Mother / who could be soothed / by singing like Elvis / and lapping at the numberless prostrate nipples of a cotton T-shirt) / them wounding, and then torturing, / and then watching from further away / (after wandering there very late in a torture- / after the spasms / and the life / came infrequent) / a breath and death / and they watched / and then stretched and relaxed / between heavy leaning evening / shadows in the grass. / And now / there is a feather standing up- / right in the garden of a sidewalk / crack and past it / I sat / in the grass / in the house that My-Father built.
It must have came to me / through a forest of grass / and climbed to the highest site of my body-- / either the outer ankle, / or my nose-- / but I was not naked, / or cross-eyed, / or without feeling, / so I noticed an ant / standing on my ankle / and I sat still / crushing trees in the grass / in the house that My-Father built.
A fly found my shoe satisfactorily dirty / and sat as still as I / in the house that My-Father built.
It came to me from the remains of fire-- / floating from my own mouth / landing off the flesh / on the hairs of my inner calf / and could not move / as I sat as stone / in the grass.
It would take me only ten words / to describe the feeling of an ash on a leg hair / as sensed by some subtlety relayed in thought / from fertile skin, / but I've yet to learn even one of ten / so I sit stone-still / as a mountain crushing trees / in the grass / in the house that My-Father built.
A breeze came softly / slinging the ant back into it's forest / casting the fly into oblivious air / divorcing ash into indistinguishable diaspora / cooling my fore-head.
A wind came constant / set still / in the house that My-Father built.

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