The mouth of the cavern
is cut along the top like snowy peaks
in cartoons—it zigzags. I sweat onto
my violet shirt in the shape
of a heart, lock that away
behind varnish, a hidden floor
between stalactites
(long trick knives)
A lady of Falconbridge & lady
of Dorset
torn back
through the center & made quiet
A paper cut black branch set
on a red field. A horse
draws the carriage past a lake
of blue & all the kids
are laid down
in the forest to live
tilt their heads back,
Don't think of stopping
your shooting, more drinking!
These are to be
among the permanent
(wrong) colors
Ice rats in stairwells, above us
centaurs smack their heads
into light bulbs. They get excited
over massacre
Who were once
the innocents who never hoped
to live out unspoken prayer. A country
that laid so dark so long
Pyramids send word
to the painted mountains
don't try to lie down
as it gets late. stay on guard
study your drums & then tighten, pound back
a few shots more
ash on the sea floors
Don't you scrape away too many organs
or paint over.
Do not temper the spirit.