harrowed upon the anthills

harrowed upon the anthills

a sandal collapses upon
the basillica’s ceiling and shards
of dirt once carefully compacted

come spiraling down, while
above us stands a trembling colossus
of flesh, awakening our slumbering

senses, our insatiable craving for the unnameable.

we frolic in the forest of his hair
we wish to build our grave there, so
we burrow in his skull’s crevices

we are the lover whose desire
burns with a fire that dissolves the bond
with which bone and flesh are welded

we march not into but through.

 

the infinitesimal legions sing

their ballads long into night

as the souls of men and dogs,

frogs and reptiles are snuffed out

like stars concealed in a murky sky.

 

look at the rib cages of wildebeests

dissolving in the dirt. when

the woodpecker sets himself

to work, does he imagine his hole

will be a void widening forever?

is it a testament to the ants’ fortitude,

or the hunter’s prayer of untempered force?

 

a baseball cap, a woman’s

bleached blonde hair stand,

toppled monuments amid

the city of clay, amid the savannah’s

scarlet dust. we are in the dusk

of nature’s faltering memory.

 

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