EVERYTHING IS AHISTORICAL

EVERYTHING IS AHISTORICAL

your crossed wood
way, a cord,
the set of stones
called venerable, a
land found and found-
ed on the backs of ghosts,
all the spilt type left
to stain once virgin
sheets.

HOST

HOST

we are none,

pigheaded,

provincial,

take what we

think,

:;:

a world to a-

void any that

is a

not us.

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.

DON'T GO THINKING

DON'T GO THINKING

the earth yawns / Bored and disgusted, to do us down

a new

Gordian

knot, a

:;:

wag your

fucking tongue.

we are

all not

:;:

a.

CROWED

CROWED

cast your stomach into
the river, augur, let

the current carry away
the smoke, sweet and
skullsick, your

legs only need to be
an hour long, you

hope.

ON DAWN

ON DAWN

the aside cast,
a way given,
undrawn blood spilt

along the road,
unwinding as though
a bandage, undone

:;:

AWE TOME KNELL

AWE TOME KNELL

depart your brass
warm air, your
paper shredded skin,

all now is
leaving, leaving us
to chase behind,

ushered along by
some well deserved
chill.

BEHOLDEN

BEHOLDEN

your self

narration chains

us to drowned

hours, some

sun sets

:;:

but it was

never ours.

DEXTER

DEXTER

lay aside yr.

tinfoil

gratitude,

yr. trio of

words that

can be said,

all you desire

is so clearly

de

:;:

served

INEXTRICABLE

INEXTRICABLE

door eaters, we

mumble splintered

curses, prayers,

haunted by years

yet to enter.

BLÓÐ

BLÓÐ

drink yr

god damned

fill.

stretch yr desicated

finger towards

each one you

wish cursed.

carve the lead,

bury the tablet

beside the heart-shaped

mound or yr septic tank.

you are a true

one of us.

AKEN

AKEN

unhanded,

or,

wishing it

to be

so.

HOARSE

HOARSE

hallelujah

:;:

name fuck,

hurtle, a

circle, go

back, unspeak—

THE LEVER

THE LEVER

begs to pry

open

the cage of the crate,

yet—

hesi—

tates.

LOWERING

LOWERING

let the sun plod,

each day we take

our handful of

earth to swallow,

grit-throated, as

the topography

demands.

JACK PINE

JACK PINE

sink and wait,

wait—

you're not fly—

ing, you are

the needle brown—

ing drought.

COCKATRICE

COCKATRICE

cobble gazed

stare orbs,

roam, full,

gut my

weasel skin.

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.

FOMER COUNTRY

FORMER COUNTRY

the moon leers,

'I am no

singer'

fuck you-

r gutter

throat.

Be done.

Be gone.

naɪf

naɪf

I am my

own

blade, dulled

to a dangerous

point.