Thursday, May 11, 2017


If I marvel at you at the edge of
a bed, or hold candle-swaggers while
they each are burning down, think
nothing of it. I am only worshiping:
at the altar of god, at the horn of
plenty, at the whipping post, at the 
charnel house, at the feeding trough,
at the dream and the premise, at the
lantern-shed, at the fireman's house,
at the bay, at the ocean, at the land,
and at the water too.

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