i could not sleep last night
over the sound of the end 
of the world 
so 
instead
i looked for the mirror 
which flows and falls on the marshlands
where lately 
you
hulled out
and
threw away 
the dusty old throne
of G-D.

there i inquired
after the old style (which 
(even in those days)
had since fallen out

—and in—

and back out of fashion)
as to the meaning
of strange beatifications
and anti-damnations
and i sang of such instruments 

that cut teeth in the dark.

September 3, 2020.