My Red Indian girl approaches with Sun waves behind her. Rays broken on wheat sheaf, brown pollen flies, dither, vulture on cut poppy heads.
Hands gently brush bull rush, torches of an ancient fire That burns, that burns the curling hearts of ferns.
‘I want to meet you there My love, Who stares at the sky like a Sun flower.'
II
Scorched earth
The holy fire that licks from your Irish mouth. The Catholic words, that spill from your holy spirit. Hang in the air like ragged linen on a ***** child.
‘My empty boy, Let me slip my hands Under your gas mask And kiss the chlorine from your mouth,’
III
We are the Sun Warriors
when we're together.
strung out, drugged up, lovers of light, lovers of the summer Drought and bubble mud.
‘I want, I want our stitched up hearts. And when we’re gone, please let us lie In a heathen space and find our heaven in the sky.’
IV
The Sun
That ****** spot, Blinks. Gods eye though screamed at gives no reply.
That ****** spot blinks in a empty sky I opened my heart to god and heard you reply.