Saturday, July 18, 2009

In Paradisum


Who’ll read this book?
Daedalus of the aging organ,
Of the sameness of sleep
with unexpected holy water
on this day in Paradise.

Who’ll close this book?
Shaking bloom bald with beard
answers heaven’s rest
Water shook dread middle-aged and partched
A batch of little weeping sparrows
Stumbling into Rome.
The book is closed and broken down
All year round and under water
The better best the little barrows carry
Left off to rest among the soft apex of
Himselves, shaking, prayed and followed
Into the side doors of Paradise,

In paradisum.

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