Often trees are conductors of the absolute, the sidereal cuss
eternity. the blow escapes the rehab and into the fire as known
but
lost coupons short of your toaster of existence. the mind needs consciousness,
consciousness does not need mind. Bon Voyage.. when the body revolts within itself, and parts battle
parts,
it's the last revolution, the last pogo, follow the few that
have wisdom, don't let it deceive with knowledge, the brass ring of annihilation, you'll be recognized by a chip, and maybe it will be all that's left..

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Phil Hall

the big jack I caught in the stonepile

Phil Hall


  the big jack I caught in the stonepile
& put in the cellar to tame
  ran in blurred circles 'til the farmhouse spun

when I caught him again to let him go
  his hindlegs jumping in my fist like the tractor's gear knob
he tore a long furrow up the belly of my arm
  as if I'd been trying to kill myself

the house slowly stopped spinning
  & fell on its side — the cellar an open grave
its soft potatoes handled by cloud shadow

  boy was my arm ever starting to sing
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