Draft 2.5, Part 1
To throw light 
upon the theft 
of night.

Where rose above 
a silo’d hill.

That reflected thunder
the lofty third.

All sorts feint 
and endeavoring 

to seize 
water for sugar.

staring down 

at guns where
ran ahead.

A war of worms.
Never far 

from blood in eye
of mythic

filled with

But all points 
where vanished

slid into horror,
was an eclipse 
of the moon.

Fever ever 
deeper blue.

And behind these lay 
charcoal and ice.

And lumps 
bare purple clouds 

in a field of oats
that'd met a horse

on that sea-enlightened 
encumbering part.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.