Skip to content

Fragment #2

June 21, 2012

The line has been cast

the hook’s in my mouth, and soon :  air.

We’ve been swimming

here for some time  ( for all time?)

where up could be down

and the light is fractured and fluid

(we suspect: the hooks have been struck in place

all along  at odd jumbled hours in this maternal muck

our bodies in full collusion)

until the outskirts of freedom is reached

and the line shivers tautly-

and as the victory songs and the marches

start their proudest strut

we are pulled aloft.   We are pulled  aloft

and my tongue curls up

in my throat.






(some recent drawings)

This slideshow requires JavaScript.






No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: