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 museSkin like petals of flowers.