16/12/2009

Lawmaking

I speak the stones, and when your tone
is sorrow, I pin the rain all gravity is slain
tomorrow you'll disbelieve the bridge, your hand
enchant my ribs my larynx' ridge, a wall
of orichalcum round the lungs and salt
is treasure, barren measure keeping hazy
tenure my leal margraves tame
and fend off faithful light, and me you slight
to take a less assurance! the given errands
were to keep the sky, the moves of moons,
a distant sight to drain, make war remain
a tale of apparitions, of manure deep you need to dig
and mix, combine the roots. if what I tell are lies
let lies be blue forever, a sequel worthy of the dust
each whisper tessellae and the brain mosaic;
if speaking you unfound the truth, can no more touch
the ground but rather drown in voices, let me they call
the banquet of the evening, the folly of the fountains;
if what you hear's the silence of the temples,
speak stainèd glass till all their darkness echoes.

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