Point the deathbone
At the moon, anoint
A blue ceramic bowl
With drops of blood

Study the splatters
Of streaking fluids
The way you would
A snowflake or tulips

Enter the cavern of
All of our fears so
We can cast shadows
On Christendom

A patch of leprosy
Grows upon the thigh
Of a virgin while they
Thrive ruining resistance

As the ocean wind on
The sails of a lost
Ship captured by us
With persistence

Turns out to reflect
The worst piracy of
Our lives stared at
In mirrors of our I



A very old tree totters over 
Into the wildwood far away
With a sound approaching 
The memorial of thunder
To its standing survivors
Outspread in their foothold
Through funereal compost
Melding with mossy fungus 
Under the loam of bedrock
Adding another microtone 
To the growing forest song