Monday, July 14, 2014

poem || Mark Fleury

Concreteness and Space

Touched by a sun seed

For a body to vibrate open
A road from forehead to Muse, guarding it.

It's where all numbers that aren't one are crucified.

An x-ray of flag: dusk's gray and red,
The silvery, blue-tinged threads
Of golden beams of tightly woven twine:

The root, life-lined

Lid of outer space shaped casket.

The flag falls, a bone
Pile below the home of words.

The flag's a heap on the floor.

A current of beams now covers
The casket's sky.

Concreteness is the center
Fiber, shared by the flag and cosmic

Light tunnel. A spine
As organic as a blade of grass's

Angels, shedding their muse
Skin like petals of flowers.

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