Bellies


My thought is as free as the sun,
rampaging, billowing, fire and bones.
This earth may sing, I will sing too,

to the brave, unpitying stones,
that break, break, crush the blood
right out of my veins.

What is it I really want? What narrow
bed, what unlit path? My thought is as
free as the sun, that sun spinning mid-

air in an endless gallows dance, counting centuries
and seconds alike, mystic, vulgar, transient, full
as bellies in a peaceful time.

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