Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Spiritual

Eat stone until monotony
bleeds up flavors
 stronger than the season could,
until sun lights and burns
the guts and handfuls of that meal.

I joined such an army.
They gave no pay but beatings.
Killing grounded us
No less, no more,
 than an evening meal.
Blood lust didn't drive us.
Perhaps motherlessness did,
but we didn't want a mother.

Naked we prayed;
We spared stark words;
We slept on dirt;
We ate only stone.

1991

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