Nail Me to the Coffin of the Now

There does not have to be a next time
Double entendres do not necessarily repair
You were maimed already, remember?
Curled up in golden potential stash
Swinging psychosis from a gallows
on the west bank
Inhaling glue of tearful hooves

Our neighbours are never accidental
His pelvis crushed to rolling tobacco
His morph into an elderberry trunk
Roots! Roots!
This bridge that watched over us
neon as Jesus
is purged now

Creating a dissimilar replica will not stop
its eye
tentacle-ising our tiny lives
precious wherever we step on the
shrivelling map
I ask it
What about another Christ child?
to not begin from?





Nail me to the coffin of the now

so my smiling petals

my heavy breathing wood can sing

ecstatic birth hymns

to feed what I have with any orifice

Sat nam is on every crow’s lips