Tuesday, March 29, 2011

A Month Of Beasts

gullet of March
vessels the vacant
claps of trees

March, my face
lifted words against

March, your lamb
snagged in teeth and
hollow hoof,
shoulders slung
with punctured winter

March, two beast maker
fleece my feet
with fever and chill,
sweat pelts
in your brackish afternoons

March, a skin of talk
words mingled
swapping genetics

March, quiver me
in crocus beds,
epidermal fissures
not pelt
but column of speak

March, plain robes
of sky, bare back of earth
unsure of inevitability
talk with the wool of
your eyes
talk soft

March, hush your mane