FÜR 6 HÄNDE

FÜR 6 HÄNDE

cold faced, you
swallow a smile,
you break off
an icicle, jagged
eyed, murderous in
your kindness, your
moth eaten faith.

some stranger faced
beast walks past,
and you brace,
wound up with
chill and friendly
malice, ghastly, fractured
but claiming the

whole of all,
a land you
have seen once,
before the snow
cloaked it, a
place to sow
teeth, should the
ground ever thaw.

BODY IS TRUE

BODY IS TRUE

we are that
demiurgic cabal

left alone,
together

under the heavy
expanse of the

empty, eyewateringly
blue sky, jostling

each other aside
to claim our turn to

press our fingers
into the cold, dead

clay, willing it
to be anything,

anything but
meaningless and

inert.

SIGH TUN SCENE

SIGH TUN SCENE

hear as yore chants,

on tea kin, on red,

on herd—

awl these tars

cold bay long

two ewe, in

state hay weight,

ah loan, on

scene, called end

dissed ant.