“Without Asylum” by Trevor Joyce (for Angela)

true we may surmise
how a knife hatched
out of meat
should fledge

span with blade
then unexpectedly
take flight onto some sill
moult there with clutch

of fist falling from it
arm with balance
of muscles altering
to lift and lay

its murderous
intent and disturbed
dreams and brood
how everything broken

so they say points
to the unbroken
forgetful is it of what did
the breaking as I witness

my own loathing
and desire walk
through the dreaming
labyrinth of my child

while detailed depositions state
how further on
within the wood
whose skew bent

registers which wind
prevails itself perpetually
ragged and worn
from ocean breath

and sun and every flame
it quenched in its far
fetch the bright axe
blossom suddenly

the long bones lever
up from it like anthers
and beyond the startling
calyx of teeth

an avid buzzing perishable
fruit set thicken
and disintegrate
to load with sweet

secure deposits
of afflicting gold
their remote cells
and stipulate eventual

shelter from the fall
asylum from the edge
a luminous domain

seldom they relate
why the innocent whose mouth
is like a bowl of blood
blurts words already

darkened with gods
and sacrifices how
I have the face of those
whose faces have rotted

and although whirring blades
have been observed
to crystallize spontaneously
throughout the native

rock and ramify
in gangs and casual crews
good companies exfoliate
pervasive and exotic dust

where tellers and their firm
controllers fight to reconcile
accounts and sound
is severed from the dogs throat

there is no further testimony
to the effect how in this
realm of agents deeds
and instruments

one sees at last displayed
an armoured beast whose
head a growth of flame
in the shadow of the ripening

clocks the river sames
destroys itself the jug
absconds leaving to the grasp
only a sustained bewilderment

like dice spinning

—from Wild Honey Press website

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