From JOAN
I spent all my loneliness with you right here
talking in flip to the isle of grass
the velvet-eared cattle & the sawgrass spines
because the coin of solar declined every day I closed the
gates to the sphere & tomatoes grew in the dead of night
just like the blushing minds of yawning kids
guttered candles spilled their pinebrushed gentle
and bells spelled out the trail to vespers
a chilly wind blew in blusters upon my backbone
& I had extra ideas than there have been rocks within the river
however they weren’t heavy to me
not but not but something this was Domrémy
my squire would say later good luck is sort of a turned key
he would additionally say that fortune eats her kids
**
younger and slumped within the faceless hours
of August warmth I might prick my thumb &
suck the blood out simply to get nearer than closeness
to some feeling of being beloved in my very own physique
as a substitute of ready for the stillness that solely
is available in turning desires swallowing
the spit as if it have been the holy water it was
and nothing was painful & every part was
the solar too scorching or too sharp angled directly
the sapphire nightfall draping its lace arias
on fence posts the fields sown in secrets and techniques
I felt I couldn’t presumably perceive
though I stared by the window at midnight
eyes peeled like dry pears in winter barrels
how easy to be locked within the drawer of devotion
for years till it will definitely opened
and the uncooked want to be monstrous in love emerged
my blue muscle groups stamped with
an emblem from every lonesome day
I had buried my grace & then drowned excavating
pulling out brick after brick of doubt and disgrace
there was no hush and it was not like sleep
it was like burning a match till your
fingertip melts and runs to the grain
that yr evening got here after I ate the sunshine
that arrived on the finish of the day
till all I might see within the blue chunk of air
was the moon because it rose like a roan
that had simply slipped its bridle
