Ariana Reines is the author of Mercury (Fence Books, 2011).
Only one grass whistles out the tooth of my horse And the moon drops fast behind the fences And the wheat lolls back And waits for death I could see the sea from where I was My mesh hat shone blue The jagged cheek of Gibraltar Solid, sucked in the mouth and never melting Where my dog’s warm underleg soothes the whetstone I speak of it thusly I say it thusly I lisp its name into the curl of wall stained dark in the impression of my mouth Only one grass whistles out the tooth of my horse And the moon bends back And the wheat lolls back And opens its stomach And waits for death I soak it in my black water It seethes in bags I have hung up among the rafters It seethes in bags of amber and jasper transfusions Flower liquids in cellophane pouches Streaked with goo clots of plastic soldier sun When the pitcher is poured out the length of my tongue And ten vats of grease ignite in unison Only one grass whistles out the tooth of my horse A too-tight phylactory The moon bending back The wheat lolling back Scrollboxes clattering on the stone Jugs of gasoline and jugs of sand I threw my coat on the sea The velvet sea My coat spread My coat spread It was the blue of the top of the column of milk Its soaked embroidery It was the ditty two winds whined into the anus of night Skating along the floor of the brook Are leaves and ice. Devolving on the brook floor It is only one little one. One blue shard of pale Palestine. The wineskins are pricked Goats’ udders banged sore Where mica lodges in the mucus house Where my velvet is sucked down Where the cheek blows thick with sleep to be brushed by the sea Blue Palestine Wrung swan neck in oil Tasseling dirty day with rocks that fly and fly and fall and fall and fall. The moon bends back And the wheat lolls back A cracker whitens on the tongue of the hanged man My velvet is sucked down the sea The sea wall is chipped blue The clock of Palestine Gulls’ salt beaks Iron drums soldered shut and stuffed with salt cod An anvil of rammed earth in the form of a baby belly button Hair raised on the hat of the imperatrix Embossed forever in her brass annal No grass screams against the foot of my horse No rock whinnies down the side of the sea No scroll staves off the reeds quivering in my rib wall And no algaes quiver And no frogs belch out the tablet over the song of my purchase of night Blue Palestine Red sucker bloody on the bib of the world Blue Palestine Ice tray soaked in solid sun
14 February 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Ariana Reines. Used with permission of the author.