Sunday, June 2, 2013
WAKING, WALKING, SINGING, IN THE NEXT DIMENSION?
1979/ Morris Graves
THANK YOU, Tess, at Magpie Tales....
A wounded crow rushes
through the entry to my veins.
I'm waiting for the scream,
but my mouth won't do as it's told.
Damage flies swiftly on bright wings,
a blot of crimson forms a Rorschach.
I swear it looks like a velvet Jesus.
I feel the delirium soaring,
spreading to the field of stars.
Hovering bird clutches,
knows the way of return,
hushes the throb,
lets a zephyr blow through me.
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