Democrat, Illinois - The ElectroLounge

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Ecstasy, where not fruited on one smile’s
tree. Answers, without need to sum &
cohere. Underneath, I dreamed you’ll find
why this war, & the next, why men roar
& wish to call it language, wish to call it
song, wish to call a later hour revelation’s,
willing living in time & law at all.
I dreamed you’ll find it underneath,
a comfort will not abandon you in
your hungriest years, will assure you
that no man’s hand forever clouds
the skies, & that indeed he roots
like all in the same bloody muck.
******
lx. In Strange Service
“What purpose?” I ask the Beast in dreams,
when we’d prowled & pursued each other
while. “To what purpose?”
“Some eat others,” he growled. “A butchered torso
crosses the bridge to her door at dusk,
removes her parcel of fruit & lays by her weapon,
her walls silken with thoughts for revenge,
& memories of every cat, & the dead teacher
who was kind, gave her what she wanted,
many books, tender hours, & compassion.”
He lunges but I escape, no cry, little fear,
one room to the next, one year then another,
he follows but calmer. “World bides its wicked,”
I reply, “their shifting promises to salve &
reveal, draw plain the gentle scarlet path
from hearts’ old trenched lusts to fine temples
of explain to prayer’s electric ride up
dark moonbeams & final burst of happy flesh.”
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