WORTAUFSCHÜTTUNG

WORTAUFSCHÜTTUNG

shovel mouthed, you dig
a ghost of a grave, a
maskless leer—here we

dance on pages torn
from spinebroken books,
somethere when you wake,

take a swig of chemical green
mouthwash, minting your
tongue anew, a new hole,

bottomless in your yawp,
your coughed confession,
your ill-wished wants,

somehere we make a sigil
of roads, an open way to
ward you off, with your

wallcrusted soul funneling
wirebarb sharp syllables
past the careless guardposts

of your yellowing incisors.

GALWAY SKETCH TWO [from the vault]

GALWAY SKETCH TWO

Gailimh;

with your slowwaking

raindark roads,

iron skirts pulled down

tight against the night.

you are not halfhospitable,

loosenighted, slowwaking

Gailimh,

eelroaded, eelrivered,

rainhearted Gailimh,

you are no stranger’s place.