Poem 128

a mumble for a lovely blood moon
I cull’d a pebble of the earth and put it in my mouth.
And when I pealed my lips to sip the summer down
It was a salty devil dire that pulled the sun petals like a daisy.
Morning noon and noon and night—night morning noon and noon and
Light me this pebble like a flinting stone—tinder box my tongue
Until my words are blue and dangerous, for the both of us.
Whistle out the rings of smoke we spoke and forge the moon to fire.
Spit that stone tword the soil and soak him up this harvest glow
Give back your borrowed heat and meet this engine with my teeth.


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