Giantess reaper, her sting is a bald ram,
saving premonitions for the delta, damn—
still a fey sun tempers her nebulae.
Surpasseth you and I
when plans awry do deify
a moment’s notice and upend
a sacerdotal motion of eternal giving in.
Thin engines may pack a sacrum wanting images for fire.
These are the willing hasps toward
no barnyard. Ani-mal! Ani-mal!
Isis whose grief was like a fish flopping on red-hot coals.
Ekphrasis on a scripted box life, virtue
in the Einternoot, a scrap shell cinder.
Who stays deeper than the fear named Sacrifice Inn?
Happy Book Hotel, Skipcrags Bog Norplanks.
A body on a bed where no one bleeds
but is silent, Harpocrates diffused
as crepe myrtle in a closet, lavender booming bass.
Furtive Isis in her loam garden, concrete
statue gesturing for soap, Horus falling naked before
this floozie who flung Seth’s seed,
digeree-digeree-dock, lips upon tablet,
the very same wanderer in convenience
we seek to shake, circumference of revealing.
What is stolen is the method of concealing!
