Friday, July 22, 2016

The Third Moment

The third moment
on a gray evening
on the night of the eclipse
on a windy November
I chose something I forgot
when the minor demon
with the dripping hair,
dirt in the eyes,
spit-moistened,

      striking out against
      my shadow
      my sanctuary

a finger caught
the blood of Christ
from metal beams

       from the murmurs,
      dinnertimes where
      the coffee is always cold

when the boats come
to my brain and it is

the third moment
on a gray evening
on the night of the eclipse
on a windy November

I shall drink from
the syrup
garden
pitcher
jasper
coop
pack of hounds
jasmine
headquarters
ginger
sherry
slang
straw bed
jargon
syringe
Jesus!

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