like so i might pray:
lord do not take your hand from
me, do not loose the rope
or pull the infamous lever.
(the floor might disappear beneath my feet)
lord thrust me into a mountainside,
curtail the daylight in my eyes.
lord do not leave hurriedly,
scabbard and shield be damned,
the sun and the moon be
damned.
lord take me out to sea
so that we may touch the backs of whales,
speak their language, their whorls
and swirl-speech echoing to another
ocean, and let my fingernails grow long.
lord what is your name?
lord you are
lord you are.
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this is not the end of the poem. originally i thought we might end at the tenth installment, but that seems to arbitrary. rather, the tenth installment can be the beginning of the end. that is to say, if i had wanted to end it i could have.
ReplyDeletei do not want to end it.
so now the end (the end? really? what is this end anyway?) may be the eleventh installment. that's for andrew to decide.
if he does not end it, i may end it at twelve.
it's in your hands, brother andrew.
p.s. i'm sorry i was absent so long. i've been swamped.