In this mouth I gather darkness, an aria,
rosewater tongue, tympanic bone,
a poem more quiet than quietness,
a bronze song, something undone, salvia,
a crushed butterfly.

we were movie stars
             who never entered the frame.
                    we were green and gone
lisping “o” words in the air:
ode, odalisque, obituary.

 More & more I see the human form,
a nothingness which longs to be the sea.
Lives infinitely repeated down to atomic thinness
like footfalls in a strange house. 

From the province of spring everlasting
bring back a rose that remains half-open,
from the drydock of mute old men
bring back the miracle of a tear,
from the delta of good intentions
bring back the seed that will change a life.

We fitted our shoes with tongues
as smooth as our own
and hung tongues inside bells
so we could listen
to their emotional language,

In the hole he counted heartbeats
but got scared they’d stop
listened to broken pipes
under the shit-hole in the floor
finally read the Bible they give you
but his religion wasn’t in a book