billyfivecrows

(a short prayer)

All of India. Things inspire.
A Crumpled smoke.
A rope without motion,
Draped over step.

I do my best irritation
Of an antique song.
Make a bed of weather,
String two minds together

Frayed at the cuff like
Dream; a body in the
Ganges, a dripping faucet.
A corset. Some kind of

Kindness,

A robe of blindness

Mapping moons on the nape of neck...


***

A tremendous pressure lifting... an entreaty of true work is less like a message than a missive; letter by letter, the spell's formation. Level. Leavened; manna. Density.

Happy ghost, now. Not tired enough to sleep, not awake enough to haunt, to hunt. This is not poem enough to chain a rattle to a crib. Rattle a chain. A thin one bells like ribs of silver mouse or snake. Take your time to be near it.

To hear it.

good night,

rain.