— "mu" fifth part — His they their we, their he his was but if need be one, self- extinguishing I, neither sham nor excuse yet an alibi, exited, out, else the only where he'd be. Before the long since remaindered body, imagines each crack, each crevice as it sweats under cloth, numbed inarticulate tongues touching down on love's endlessly warmed-over thigh. The awaited one she mistook him for haunts him, tells him in dreams he told him so. Such offense, but at what won't say, moot remonstrance, no resolve if not not to be caught out. . . Abstract advance, its advantage unproved, unbelieved-in, vain what wish would give. . . Late eighties night momentarily bleached by bomblight. Awoke, maybe inwardly wanted it, wrestling with dreams of the awaited one again. Thought back but a moment later what moodier start to have gotten off to, angered by that but begrudged it its impact and so sits remembering, pretending, shrugs it off. . . Arced harp. Dark bent-over body. Esoteric sun whose boat its back upheld. . . Unseizably vast underbelly of light, limb-letting thrust. Tread of hoofs. Weighted udders of dust. . . His it their she once they awake, the arisen one, world at her feet, her feet one with their rapture, ankledeep in damage though she dances. . . The slippings off of her of their hands define her hips, whose are the suns whose heat his nights taste of and as at last he lies her legs loom, naked, loose gown pulled from her, sleep turns. And he with his postures cramps the air, bent lotuslike, lips part kiss, part pout
M. Nourbese Philip
s no s laves s in nest/s with in come sir my lie ge lord it i s now y/ our turn co me b e me rains fa ll no wa ter in t me and p lay your p art the sun ros he t ub under sk in sin for ty days fo rty nigh ts forty ce dis for forty sins j'aim faim j'ai faim god of spire spes and p raise turn and turn the bo nes sing a son g of wa ter a wat er so ng sin g song sin g song de fend the d ead & sin n o sin sin g the bo nes h/o me what w ill my b ones say h ow do the y forty we eks come to t erm shh au di can you not he ar from the de ep the voi ces not sir ens we are a t sea the d art of my sto ry stings i me ant no harm no hurt res cue us rag and bone men in dict the a ge pears in g in in wine win ter wine and y ou Ruth this story ne sts in the ne t the we b of ti me tam p it down do use the flam e of this ta le what pro fit me if mon coeur non est we wind o ur way sub water o nly the bone s of the sh ip their e yes dart this way and th at soft so ft they ro am the ship their cri es grate on me y ears drag the dee p for the b ones of my so ul their sou ls cast the n et wide to the d eep men to the p and a tot of ru m...