When comets drown in the ocean
Who shall morn the fish.
When water comes from the core of this world
Who shall morn the kittens
and their philosophy of pounce?
When fire anoints the cliff tops
Who shall morn the baby goats
On mountain altars
as they chant with their hoofs?
When mud swallows villages of books
Who shall morn the missing words.
Crippled fragments of knowledge?……
In all things i seem
To bare a strange curse
Fester in moonlight
Agonies that contain no beauty
To feel for those
who do not have a voice….
To drip worlds on
Paper like indistinguishable prayers.
Lettering nouns that no longer exist
i imagine their tears
and fall a companion
into the mysteries of snares
For when this nightmare world ends
i shall be blessed forgetfulness
For the grave shall not morn for me
Dreams for the tools of my voice--
Lie discarded cool with
Worthless cloak of skin..
Barriers of bones ribs empty
and tears are dried in passage
for they have completed
the growing of wings…