I break open the chest of a beast
any beast you choose, Mother:
mastodon, elk, bald eagle.
I fish my hand through blood
and pillows of tissue.

I wish you to rest on such pillows.

Pulling out the arched bones,
ivory and clean as elephant tusks,
I hold them up to the sky, these
pieces of curved moon.

You lay across two rivers
joined together by prayer,
I break open your chest, your breasts
you beast, my mother
and I give you the lungs of power

The power of stampedes across Africa
flights through the Orient.
When you open your eyes
dandelion seeds fall down like tears.
I have stitched you closed with
Philodendron roots and when I say breathe
you inhale deep as the earth
deep as a great howl in the night.

04/04/2006

Posted on 04/04/2006
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