Elisabeth Beasley - KENOSIS
Overeager undereater, humility's not a game
but destroys the enmity of my bid.
Die out this compartment, the utter container
fits still the windowpane, a gristly sleeve
from shoulderblade to fingerbone, its ring of jade
sits square, sits square
for fears it fears.
My breath smells sweet at nil, but now
the copper spigot mans my air.
Sour shouts the copper spout, this profit
is deadening encomium, dead
everything I touch, everything dead
Midassing the minus of minus.
For Hell's sake, Heaven would be
invisible, divisible, dividable, divine.
Negative mirrors making one, they merge as air.
|