Poe Climbs Down from the Long Tapestry of Death
as you rose, as you rise now through the sound of my voice, through a dream, through a blip in time, you returning, a snarling halo of flies rising from the Bear-of-the-Gone-Gall-Bladder, from the spinning plates of the poor, out of the crushed throats of the disappeared, out of your own mouths that betrayed 路you ... Look: some other world, uninhabited & without speech, turns quietly in your dreams, beveled into vast dimensions of air & light & dust. I will lead you there, my darlings. I am holding you up in my mind: you swarming abattoirs of night, you droning calliopes of the dead.
Winter路 Spring 2008
II