Aug 122011
 
Spreadeagled 
		on a cliff cemented
				in limbo clouds
about him his waist
		wading in air
				on the rock's face-
to-face with what
		holds on in this
				vertical world where
fierce eagles nest with ease
		and low weeds wave
				without sweat
finger by finger inching up-
		wards his breath backed
				into his nostrils
gored dank bull-like
		no flower of the body
				no vista for eyes only
effort, exhausting, forward
		hands aching red
				into their grip solely
hanging in the air sheet
		lightning riveting his back
				pain by pain a spine
made of pain the fetid
		anchor here always
				alone always
sonless and fatherless both
		treading toward what
				plateau trapped
above by quiet acres
		of sky, sky
				translucent, impenetrable.

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