Saturday, December 24, 2016

A Hail Mary

A Hail Mary

We buried you yesterday.
Yesterday we buried you.
We poured land over you yesterday.
You were in the ground yesterday.
You are surrounded by dirt since yesterday.
Above and below and to the sides
for your feet and on your head.
We put you inside the earth,
covered you with dirt yesterday.
Yesterday we buried you.

Generous Mother
of the dead,
mother earth, mother
vagina of the cold,
arms of weather,
lap of wind,
nest of night,
mother of death,
pick him up,
strip him, take him,
save him, finish him.

As the children grow up,
with all the dead, little by little,
you finish. I've been watching you at night
above the marble, inside your little house.
One day with no eyes, no nose, no ears,
another day without a throat,
the skin on your forehead cracking, sinking,
obscuring the wheat field of your reeds.
All of you submerged in moisture and gases,
making your waste, (your disorder, your soul)
equal to your suit,
more wood your bones and more bones on
your stage performance.
Wet land where your mouth was,
rotten air, annihilated light,
the silence stretched to all your size.

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