Genesis 3:24
You wrapped my hands
you bound my feet
and sent me like a prizefighter to Eden
You tattooed scripture
on the cleft of my tongue
nothing but lines of swollen braille
casting penumbra
way down to my gut
When all of the harp strings break
and every drum is shattered
when the trumpets wear out
and succumb to their bloodrust:
Still in those days I shall hover
in the Empire of Sublime Un-ease
and play for you a symphony
of matchsticks
and approaching sirens
Circa February 2019.