Wednesday, February 4, 2009

I thought I was Feeding the Bird, but Really, I was Feeding the Cat

Telemachus 21

Jesus fluttering in his waistcoat
Made of stone and tinder
Sober ballad the path of
The senses narrow from
Here to creation.

Behold, God is in the stomach
The word calls us from
The bird’s hat
Quivering on the wind
That brought us back and gave us
A wavering key to the
Salt eaters, found at the edges
Of the salty sea.

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