Tuesday, July 10, 1979

BACK TOWARDS THE DEAD

Back towards the dead  
(This one may have been typed up. The title seems familiar)

Foxes and wild boars abound 
in red pigment
An imprint of the hand
The hunt, an arrow 
wounded the bison. 
His hour was promised.

Who sought me 
under the high sun 
in the dust of limestone caverns? 
Ancient fire scars 
bones of hunted beasts, 
thigh bones to gamble by, 
while the stars rush outward 
to darkness like mosses 
on the flood tide.
Neither by day, nor by night. 

Cow dung and red Earth, 
granite (then your brain). 
I am stone, I am stone, 
the chief and the priest in one. 
I have not trembled. 
And I'll stare down 
from the brightness of stars. 
Who carries this jewel on one hand 
before the vividness of stones? 

7/10/1979
very, very minor tweaks  11/2/2015

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