Sunday, February 14, 2010
I would be Jesus/Without a cross to prove me
"I would be Jesus
Without a cross to prove me." A. Sexton
You, kind sirs, tore the gaunt border down
Daily. Music, the bells, gone.
Drowned out in symbolic form
& in single view; uncovered
Lens, black holes, black dens, the last, lost
So I will go now
Without knowing my best route
Distance wildly inaccurate.
My feet, dry, cracking, gold leaf
Underfoot, footsteps up steep steppes.
My clothing walks back to me.
The waiting a story: unknown
Girls, skin on lost roads, the tavern
Wall. All making a living;
Aeschylus, the Oceanides, Faustus
The Furies: walking, rowing, bearing
A torch, observing falling stars.
The truth & the dead know curses
Profane for gods who weep deep,
The fortress old, doors weathered
& still. Born the unnamable nature of
Holy hows unexplained, we die
Awake, horses beaten to fever.
With no safety in place
The hegira abides.