← v9n2, Fall 2010Poetry · Volume 9, Number 2
Ochre xvii
Corporeal is our script, we dead
Whose codexes confound you. A slash
To phase the moon, a slash to drive an ibex
Up a self-same alpine stone.
Micro-ed
& macro-ed. Snakehead or sperm? Moon or ovum?
The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog,
Password Protected. Strings of a lyre the dead can strum
In glossological silence.
Incise the slag,
Cut deeper & the gods spew out, commingling
With fist & stylus, stone to stone in its season—
Marrow to marrow, groove & puncture, we factor time:
Red letter dates—all rebus & cipher. The detail work’s
Promethean.
We cleave the graven firmament.
