You can see the earth shake, no doubt, Its myriad images In your broken glass. You can feel it, no doubt, 5 In your tenebrous nails. Or in the nervous laughter that the sky Shakes down. Pointed voice, mixing blues and browns In a vivid mash that riffles the eye, 10 These solids, and these, Remain impenetrable. O how I regret not having killed The mouse in my childhood. 15 Enfold me, lucid muds, I would go cloaked in earth the way a duck Dons water.
From the collection "Constellations in December"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.