Hanged Man

He shows everyone

the way to the apple-stash

we follow this gash

up the street wondering


imagine walking though

from a room having lain

awake all night

or having woken early


tying that knot

highly specialized extravaganza

skill the absurd lurch

into nowhere


or just leaning down calmly

into a blotched grimace

tag in the air

secured threading the hyperstructure


don’t do it we will regret it

according to parameters

a sleep a fruit

weep my lute


he carried through

Vlad hangs on his knees loving him in his way

all tongue was he happy

to taste the coffee


this cup (mine) smells of earth

or chick-peas the last drink

rarely lives up to its billing

I would like to grieve more


but knew him little

praise him without whorls

or particular decorum

who turned away


from it all owing something

nothing a note flipped

from his hand as he knotted

the threads dropped


even this being literature

picked over held up

assailed in a jury box

each whisper turned septic


he has the view now

over everything that was keeping him

consolations dandled

between the covers


health in the sick-bed

shelter for the pursued

enlightenment for the cozened

lithium for the overexcited


he is who we want him to be

a full stop

like a dot of pond mud

swarming with animalculae


From A Colomber in the House of Poesy (Aquifer 2014)

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