Before the geese upon the water have begun their day, Before cold dawn could allay the winter's deep dream of May, Or any symbolical host fly out of the dark, as it must, The thoughtful song, drawn like yarn out of a beggar's breast, And which had illuminated pride, so weak was the world's way, Unseen ages, like the bird with the silver ball for a soul, Died dreaming in that beggar's breast, before he could awake from the dust.
Virtuous beggars into cold dawn swarm To chill their heated flanks. How do I know that they were warm? They had no stitch of clothing on.
Socketless and sailor In the world's winded veins Scented genesis and coffinsilk I mock the soberest cockerel Diving from the prism-spitting Pinnacle of the world's mast Uselessly singing And rant like a wronged girl All my sweetest notes Over ignorant houses Slumbered in death and morning light. Out of the closeted shout this echo beats Features of a sinning man on tin More pressed to anguish in a dial's sigh Than any victim of time heretically cried Has been bludgeoned by suns Or a pauper's bliss been Crimped in a penny's fear Or any tale of the world Cauled in a scorpion's sting Has twisted its smile on a man's side Or any climbed tirade Spoken in wishes That nature's weary fabulist Set down. Graveturning in wishes As a wish is a kiss My manbones shriek In blooded inks Out of a rage welled and calmed As any bird's ratcheted turn Over the thumbing sea at dawn Crawls at clouds In inching desire as each wingbeat clips Over measured cessations Chewing ships and bones to flour. Out of each brick The cold dawn shakes And each root tooth of daisies Cragged in the fingering spring Floods pulse and fever To ramshackle gods agog As saints in whispers Each aghast their closed wings keep Singing of statuary And the boiling joy Of the devil's boyish kiss. So I this saintly mort cry down And each nailed lip kiss Quagmired in hatred Tried and hung, on pentecostal cross and hatch Birthing the blood plant Insisting in stitches For this world the word's wound. So I, crumbling on windfall, On sold bones and the tarot told Watch hatred disaster, man and god fall, And all loved things end.