Until the ovum opened like ghost skin,
Pooled like the ocean
And poured from my mouth.
I wasn’t aware of how god-like
We sinners could easily be.
Hieros gamosIn the wild, wind washed, beneath the hills below the skies,Hieros gamos by dy-ad
This temple is a body.
Came upon his inert rest. With lips still reddened and warm,
I sought breath in the valley of his mouth.
But empty spirits guide this house.
Cupped his chest to mine, captured by his musk
My lungs expand to weep.
Father, my brother, incest of kings.
Essence in your arms,
Names you bore for me.
ArmisticeHeadlong into war. Thrust at the dead men standing across the wall.Armistice by dy-ad
Melted down like bullets, they steady themselves. We steady ourselves.
An explosion of great Anarchy. A burning saint’s scream.
A collision of fools, a glorious bloodshed.
Shod in whimpered pleas,
And a smirk at my brother’s dead god.
last yearto lose fieldlast year by antonfrost
and friend to the same emptiness
is to unyield.
to receive stone
in place of children
to grow old
in this way
is to harden.
one night reeling
from my long dead father's brandy
i unspun the straw from its huge
scattering its gold like a halo
around the barn
until a strafing sound covered the ground.
the barn swayed,
wicker as a petering out
before she died and after
my wife's body was like a conch,
her name unlike a name,
her voice heard
in all the almanacs of ear pressed
to cold tabletop.
if a moon finally messiahed
down to the dirty ground,
between here and the woods
there might be promise.
the half-dark of a cave,
a room's half,
when music being played
to be waded through,
as if prayed or mooned over,
the evening pours out
the last of its water.
if the moon would only appear,
spill its oils.
might hold all of last year's
like the wall of a canyon
that gets all