“Untitled” (detail) by Paul Sutfin

A Simple Beast

A simple beast, here it lied
it loved too much, too hard in all its strengths

frowning the torment of her nature
stretched out and broken down
speaking softly of hours fixed in brightness
darkening out what small sky remains
for you and I
now poverty swarms the future,

the rags fill my eyes, and leaving
in the night I am undone, and in sleep I have
become yet another man,
morning like a razor on my throat,
a trail of crumbs in the bones of men,
seeking always to warm the bones
and the glow becomes quiet, a still-born
quietness held in awe by those around it

and counting the leaves above you, it is summer now,
growing always weaker though, inside of you
in a way that actors never know, or cease to
know, a late summer surge swelling the horses
dark and earth-like

—

Psalm

On the roads
we sat and wept
growing lighter with the loss
of moisture
void black and pulsing

ah, aggressive beasts
seen covered with a multitude of eyes
blanketing many fields
galloping at the right hand of God
wedged in half-human formation
on edges of lakes
fleshes of mountains
braids of stream

the angels came to us,
sided with blindness
blooded palms
asylum-seekers
puppet-masters