The Angle of Repose

Spring bubbling
hot steam spitting
debris, the human body
equal to measurable chemistry
like the volcano the internal cloud
rolling gases methane and carbon collections
of blood spilling lahars pulling death
down like a stripped off dress
the excavation afterwards spent and supine
remainders of exhaust trickling in small streams
here lies the body

The devastation, ocean
to rock again and again the war
shoved out and pulled down
gravity, the mother’s hand.
the loss is unavoidable, my love
she would say if she could speak now
but she has transformed
a sea out to sea, swimming the one lake trenched at the bottom
at foot of the collapsed crater, near the explosive volcano

less colour but more white
the further from the sun more white:
it comes as a surprise.

Rocks fractured underwater recycled each new cycle
inseparable from the next. One could not sieve
the element from the whole, the shimmer
from the gold. Like a mountain, man rising from a glancing blow.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s