looms are soldiers
looms are warriors
moonlight daughters thread their sorrows
onto strings and other rings
the loom is music when you use it
i see patterns disappear
strip me from my comfort zone
and pour hot oil on my bones
soak me in the telephone’s ringtone
anger and humility
liquid dissolution
musical perfusion
excuse the intrusion by ladies
who wept for your breakfast
is this shadow
is this memory
what’s the point of breaking free of trance
if the delivery of abstraction
does not excuse the infractions
soma and sofas
morning *** in the dawn
swimming in suffering your heart is torn
from the pages of a book
so old and forlorn
that i hesitate to return it
for i am afraid of what may fall
from the spine to the floor
a thousand meters tall or more
measure them with your eyelids
a thousand kisses
in the blink of an eye
a single witness but no alibi
insipid swiftness
sweet and sour
shoulder the bow and arrow
and carry your laughter in quills of hemp
dimples fill our nap-sacks
masters of nothing
infinite becoming
en le jardin de miel