Entre Dos Aguas

Mer mori

"redour til treasury" raise on the head death

herding herald of soundhorn logicked wail

steps on these weaveyards, as beholden-trapeze,

growing wheat of indigestible soil, carcass and shit:

feed for a military of birds flocking

to a maison of witch-joy walls - a plaster of Paris

taken scorn route of combat

for the sake of union of ancienne regalities.

A love among limestone caves,

breath through eyes awash of salts

with short skins of nitrate.

Bring me prismatic                gasps,

One-Iris and a           blow of golden flowers

Wave,                                winding to sternum

An ill flotilla of b u t t e r f l i e s

snapped 

by

ocean-

in-fiction.

(`````) Mer curialle (,,,,,)

"no telos but I still see straight ahead/straits out to the heads." "the ocean is invisible" "the water is the same warmth as my skin, I do not feel wet." “cold sharp grass on the Hebrides’ dunes”

“History dissolved in the stomachs of phi – fish

With rough matte river” “plate scales

Pointing at half past ten.

Laughing” “ teens on shore

With heads over bank

Spy

         darting        whiting.”

“Each fin flap” and     “tail sweep”

“Like clocks              stirring foam”

“Widdershins project

Brief lifetimes.”
“The young squint”
“cajoling to share

In round union”
“gnomic saga – giggle as whisper -
from birth till one

Till seven” “in the morning “field,
bright” “with sheaf to waking
sans” “dreaded scatter.

Smiling” “bouquet
held in hand.”
“the gift of awed witnessing.

The young point”
“Did you see that?
That was when I first
learnt to read. Worduction.”

“I see your story. There you are

Reading, sitting on a small wooden chair
fastened by painted black bolts. Your hair

Is black. Your uniform is grey. This is
a classroom. Your exercise book, covered

In gluey yellow cellophane, slippery plastic,

Has the longest story of the class. An undone epic.

 You had done enough unfinished.”