Monday, October 1, 2007


Along hairline

Gypsum vertebrae
Basalt backbone
Cobble belly

Heels of pumice
Breast marble
Neck flint

Even blue bells between
Turn schist

No more fragility of aspens
Or golden staircases

I sprout baleen
To make ribbing
Stay corsets

I am Jaw line finally
Translated to jet—

Yet still you come
Begging hair

Still I purge
Heavy confluence

And you swim up
Swollen-whaled breathy

Pulling the roots of my home

1 comment:

rr said...

i have read this several times, and each time i reach the last few lines, finishing the poem i am perplexed, and satisfied at once. how could i not be, having purged heavy confluence. i do not mean to make light, this was the cumulative apex for me as i read it.