Sunday, August 11, 2013

Throats in a Tumult and Devouring Discourse


Time being no necessary adjunct or true
Ornament of love we invent
Barbarous recipes for ancient syllables
Hunted in a father’s thicket
Snared in a mother’s thistle

We wait on a porch for noon
Sipping tumblers of lukewarm lies
Gnawing the dry bone of hope

For once in our life forget that we
Are like Adam and Eve
Forget that we forgot that we
Never left this fallow and fallen garden

Beneath the bridge of our arms
Flows the weary river of our conversation 

All we want is to explore illimitable desire
The strange domain of silence of no
Words a vast wilderness where we
Finally find and kill the noble beast

In a savage land
There are no vegetarians

Author Reading

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