ReRites (Each upon a Sand in Heavy Summer Spurs)

in the flat bed, in the strange light, & seam mouth and through all all the hooting rooms switched around The Next Life is a Moment The moon is stretched like muffled nakedness. Coming is a shattered place: The history of the soul. What has Power done? Who hangs this delicious world? “It invents the dirt. In the pressure of the sea, a hollow wisdom sore,-- from the musing crowned— it makes the body our many-colored selves, or having the wistful artery awake a guest gust Each upon a Sand in Heavy Summer Spurs Their sea fades, moans out a talentless kiss in the sky. So that i drive past the massive regime More horrible, than laughter.