Obsidian Civilization

II

See the men in the sea mending the Inn
Wile away the recession into oblivion
They carved us out of obsidian to watch us burn,
then stepped into the flames to wait their turn

Chink in stone, let alone the stranger’s groan
Air that flies before our face, around the city’s
toxic waste, the Redwood Trees, rolling seas

In the bend of the moon is its shadowed self
When it looks us in the face with its brightest half
from waste to waist we eat as the Eagle’s eye dies

Chancellor, to your throne, your wine is poured
To each their own, to own is to obey, today
and yesterday, swindled colonists buy land
None can own the sky, its thirsty tears,
the sun’s murderous alibi,
the sweeping flocks, Trout and Hawk, the Bear

Tell me stone, can I own the millennia that chiseled you?
Could I buy my spine and a dead man’s gizzards too?
If you spit can I swallow you?

Trickle, tickle, little stream, fly from night to
murky dreams of brilliant days, so faint
in the waking haze you can’t pry it away
from the arena of infinity, serenity, divinity
Absurdist somersaults through these realms of Id

Cackling winds through this chink in withering wall
three stones high, stacked precariously along an ancient plain
Still sane from the absence of humans

Through this marble sized crevice, oblong crack
we see the arching back
of vivacious kinky brown haired goddess
Bathing, standing to join she is nowhere to be seen
Why is it she hides away in hectic dreams?

Triangulate the ovule, enter the flower
loosen pollen from tender pedal, settle into oblivion
Obsidian lovemaking takes place in its molten conception
They fired their arrows into the roaring mouth of the mountain