(East)
That Life conceived
In Darkness born
The Light that lights my eye is Wisdom's Child
...
The brown strength of roots
and the decadence of ripeness
fall full against the golden arms
that strain to hold the southing sun
...
This clod of earth that I call mine
is only dust and dirt,
Until your overflowing water
spills the green upon the brown.
...
Yellow-eyed and awkward walking,
Head a-bob, the air shaped blackbird,
glossy in the morning glimmer,
timid, tastes the lake-shore rim.
...
Like a door, I'm poor at metaphor, and very bad with simile.
I'm more than just a little off on my rhymability.
My mother, the existentialist, has never cared for meaning.
...
Human Wisdom,
freed from dinosauric strength
and lunic light,
has sprouted wings
...