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| Madison Cawein (1865-1914) |
Say what you will,
the notes are all here.
Diapason. Cricket's cry,
locust's whirr
and the trailing dress
ringing liminal realms.
The pulse of savage ground.
Now see The Poetess,
composed in a dark
closet of St. James court
with a bottle of wine,
conversing casually
with the Shade
of a Forgotten Poet ,
himself standing
cooling in a pool
a fresh blood spilled
from dog squirrel
cat bird
snake.
Care not for the cries
of quiet creatures
unseamed under the sygil
of the dead leaves.
All Words become ash,
bitter on our tongues.
Under the hill,
the cross,
Adam's skull forgotten
in the Serpent's cave,
the Delphyne Python
licks herself back to life
red tears dripping
down white lightning
roots.
Awaiting Typhon.
The Fall of Man begins
Him back again.
the notes are all here.
Diapason. Cricket's cry,
locust's whirr
and the trailing dress
ringing liminal realms.
The pulse of savage ground.
Now see The Poetess,
composed in a dark
closet of St. James court
with a bottle of wine,
conversing casually
with the Shade
of a Forgotten Poet ,
himself standing
cooling in a pool
a fresh blood spilled
from dog squirrel
cat bird
snake.
Care not for the cries
of quiet creatures
unseamed under the sygil
of the dead leaves.
All Words become ash,
bitter on our tongues.
Under the hill,
the cross,
Adam's skull forgotten
in the Serpent's cave,
the Delphyne Python
licks herself back to life
red tears dripping
down white lightning
roots.
Awaiting Typhon.
The Fall of Man begins
Him back again.
