Upon birth,
foetal sentries separated deadened lead
from morning's soul, pressing, holding, curling
into thighs, tapping on chambers of coiled
dark desires, cold as a skull.

A massive girdle of groiny mysteries,
the slippage of subordinated shapes,
rotated a patchwork of vacated faces,
a void whose sinews terrified walls--aslant anatomy,
harmonizing offerings to the Other, informing beings
organized into a knotted world that dreams in glimpses,
breaking limestone tassels into erections.

So the Fathers fumed in menstrual chambers
of egg-like gaps, scrambling the howls
of actual animal substances, a bestial wallowing
in the jelly of generative space, and retrievied
a topology so warped the staked out appetites
of sharpened boundaries
looped.

Curtaining death's headless spools with fingers,
cannot the lines originate from densities
that free the unnameable alignments,
crossing ice-fearing skins with navel endurances
beyond ourselves?

Hairless, befallen, breathing the oxygen
of an arrogance that has no past,
finding our animalhood's dark trail strewn
with mysteries that had failed, we began to trust
in the clutching of divisions.