Jan 142015
When into the mouth the death cry comes
Unamazed and odorless,
Crammed by the ticking fingers of perpetual crime
Down the rattling throat to sound
An agony of conscience in the unshelled ear
Of too much unlived living

Then will the eyes start up blind
And hair sprout hands for the head
Then the unmuffled will of the stilling heart
Will damn activity, haul up dock to decision,
Bless the unpaid mind with rest, tell toes to grow into feet,
Knuckles reverse to blunt, loved palms,
Shoulderblades dwindle to wings,
Red ribs uncage to drop dead lust,
And lagging heart kick all away
To fall to a faraway sky,
And all of these be mine.

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