Jan 142015
 
Speech is mischievous, a gold compass drawn
Across unmeaning skies;
It exiles the stars to quadrants, pinning them
Netted into story;
No matter how The Bear may circle and rage
He's penned inside that telling cage.

Speech is mischievous, a tattling bottle tossed
Lost on a sawing sea;
It hectors nails untold into the holy cross
To deck the bleeding tree;
Speech the human voice confines in glass,
The human heart to myth dismisses.

Speech is mischievous, says the knowing poet
At sea on the blanking page;
Chained through lip, by silver anklet clipped,
Truth's his hammered swage;
Gospel bottle, tree and netted star
Stay where we say they say they are.


Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.