Monday, December 26, 2016

Poem #58 Hour come to rocking cradle

Fall apart anarchy of innocence conviction full of troubled sight
Lion body, pit less thighs, indignant drops.
Again a twentieth century nightmare: a last born desert rapture
Hour come to rocking cradle
 rough beast slouching
head of this man the sun ‘s vexed image
empty anarchy—hand out words
loose upon the world
drowned the worst everywhere
all about it sands of man sleep
sleep hours come at last
somewhere of a head
now I know a stony sheep shadow

December cannot hold passionate intensity. 

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