Sickened

 

Weeping whiskey:
there’s a brown poppy head
that crowds the horizon,

         stirs soft granite,
 
disappears:      annihilating caves
 
         under seas
         pressing the roof of an ear.

 

Everything stops.      Orpheus hangs shapeless.
Everything moves.     Prometheus sleeps painless.
Everything breathes.   Lazarus licks the dirt.

 

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