the sound of spades in the trees
and all that dirt and pieces of soil
shooting out of the {w}hole
[what are they doing?]
[I heard they’re digging a well]
[a well? Are you sure?]
[an old-fashioned one with rough
stones lining the inside big enough
to smash your head to a pulp]
The scraping of the spades diving into the earth
unearthing stones and roots and rotting pieces
of the bodies of the dead
[the spade makes us all equal]
[quite an astonishing instrument}
[wouldn’t you say?}
[oh yes, I would have]
Deep it goes, down and down
[where do you think they’ll end up
if they keep digging like that?]
[in Australia, I’m sure, that’s where they
always end up  when it’s not China]
[if they throw in all the dirt again when they’re through,
will it fly out with tremendous force on the other side?]
[the other side? sure. where’s that?]
[the spade makes us all equal]
[but some more equal than others]
[yes, if you crack their skulls before you dig the hole]
The stars illuminate the scene
The floodlights illuminate the scene
Now the starlight glances off the spades
And goes into the hole
down, down
and again, there
It bleeds into the hole and seeps into the ground
[that’s a good foundation for a well, dirt saturated
with the innards of stabbed stars]
[yeah, maybe that will make the water glow]
[or shed light onto Australia]
[it is the dark continent, right?]
[no, that’s the Other]
[oh, how I’d like to wet my lips with that juice]
[watch out, the only thing you’ll taste are ashes]
The light might turn out heavier than expected
Keep on digging
down, down
the bodies yield to the spade
as does the earth, wet
[but the bodies are the earth, are they not?]
[no, that would be the ashes]
[or the dust]
[or the dust]
[alpha and omega]
[alpeh and taw]
You just have to lie down to see it properly
[oh yes, now I do]
[you see | ?]
I see Libido, the wandering Libido
She won’t come to rest, never
Her body won’t let her and devour her mind
bodies, it’s all about bodies
[the spades like bodies, they do
Are they d|g|one?
[no they keep digging]
down, down



I give back the keys
to that place
that does not belong
to me
and where I do not
as I’ve learned.

I put on my shoes
and brush away the dirt that I left,
dipping my head
into ink
and wiping the slate
with my wet, dripping hair
which I use to wash
your hallowed feet
fickle as birds.

I blink away the door,
rubbing my eyes until
there is nothing left
until the wall is empty,
the frame disappeared

and I step out to regain
my place among the crowd
walking slowly
from one place
to the next.


A Dark Vessel

Darkness envelopes
the vessel we travel in
on this lonely road.

Lights cutting through walls
and painting stark lines on the
canvas before us.

From the dark whispers
a voice on the radio
of a man in love

looking for a love
lost and waiting to be found
on this evening

and I cannot help
thinking of a ripe murder
waiting to happen

while we are far off
speeding down the palest veins,
a pearl on a string.

A Dark Vessel