As/Is

7.15.2004

Wound (Up)

love,

you  hole:

 

you round

walled

well

of grand

 

canyon

your damn

mud

body sink,

 

your cracked bowl

no-soul-every-

one-soul

ashes-to-ashes dust

wound

 

& ass of canyon jag

ragged & rising

 

you paleolith muscle

you found edge

of path

or page

always

over-crossed

under-lived

 

love, you locked gate

sprinkled with dead

 

 

handmaid

of hand-made

decorated dread

on potsherd & lightning

 

love,

you design

 

you rep

 

of mimes—

their black

arrow line

 

on light wash

& bellyful eyes

 

on bare clay scratch

of bare clay & water

the soothesay

grit

 

your jug smooth

love

 

love, you

hole

 

you unsky & map

you geo-grid

you tin bowl full

of clang

& campfire smoke

 

& nape

in salt pork grease

you one tall soft

cook of wild

moment

 

grass & snatch in a palm

of stone

grotto

full of dear

knees

 

& the artifact of it is

love you are always

yesterday

 

& chest hole

or pothole

today a potholder

tomorrow the better

of letter

or worst of

maybe

 

love, up

yours

 

full of emptied

you thing

you ever

& never

& full

I am

not

 

& talking

to you live

love

posted by chris on Thursday, July 15, 2004

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