PILLOW - WEPT
03.16.03 . 1:08 p.m.
this afternoon's headline:
THE WORLD IS STILL HERE!
a fresh earth.
the weight of this hole
the cry looms suddenly
whole-- a human
form that carries the box
from chasm to chasm;
we are in awe of this
slender leg & arm; the wheel that spokes
at the center of us soundlessly. love
as the window is cranked.
as the mouth shows in the shallow stream, a tongue or a stone
seem equally tender;
for instance, you
beside me on the bed, wake
to where we are cast along a wire
from the window to the grave, along
a line of skin to where we cannot
go; a water or circuit.
then to some where in side
the muscle of an always-rotting
room, to where we have forgotten sleep
& begin with the eye in death as a song,
with seam different than the lip,
that draws its heat from a hinge in the sun.