← v9n2, Fall 2010
Poetry · 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.