Through the eye of a needle

in LifeStyle2 months ago

& more is there
in the gunshot
for silence

The people pray short
& shave the monochromatic grass
a dark path

There are two seated bodies
but nothing is there—
the sculptor is shelved from tools

The bloodletting gather
like Siam bound
by two rivers
& the wound stitches the needle
into snake fangs

The eagles fall their limbs
& their rust edges fall down
towers of steel knives

Lies own their weight
with cracked spine
& pose contorted into a back
their thrones sit with worn bodies

The real of distance bending
inside its eye
sees hunger

echoing struggles
a loop of fading voices
round & round
playing the song
dance the lights on the feast

We feast on our bodies
They feté
into their bodies of clout
then clamber on the swimmers
when it is night.

Over it all
sharks walk on the shore
red clot stain
then whiten the sand teeth

Out there
nothing's there

Our lungs
from the air

These are the drowning
voices of our sound

The needle is nothing
The western sky sees only hunger