THE GO OF EVE
The sloshing part of the rain whacks the house.
Gospel of Eve sloshing through the rain
of words in the virgin forest of the house.
The untouched is irregular, and irregularity signals
consciousness. Virgins are weird, and in her forest
patterns arise to her desires. This is the text
that sloshes (“into the body of time”). And makes men
of me. A big man and a little man on a hill.
Hear the tantric thunder. The thought in her, in me,
called the lover, the other me she keeps called gnosis
immense child that strives amid her childhood
her virgin wisdom rides in writing rain.
No comments:
Post a Comment