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| FALL/ WINTER 2011 |
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stick in the well of souls He looks surprisingly young a deceit revealed by his creaking bones the agony of the eternal boatman * Throat of the world where everything crumbles into clay like fire set to the frozen body seconds of waking before flame before dust and earth a man with no arms walks beside me his face covered with tar and soot you are never going back up * I played you a love song on the spine of an ancient king it sounded like ocean forming * Terror drives my own bones into song a symphony of skeletons scratching their woes into air I try to ignore them hum Mozart under my breath a broken body turns to me you are never going back up * This street of bone I walk on is cracking beneath my feet I can feel it shifting its frailty and I know that you are waiting above ground with your stars Please darling don’t wait for me I won’t be going back up again
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