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The River Between

Updated on July 2, 2016

What shall I call you, dear sir

This or that I don’t mind

Man’s man, chameleon your name

For it mirrors who you are

And wax louder the bones

That rattle in your body to be heard

Go as thy heart leads

Be true

Don’t let the song in the bushes call

Two I know, dear sir

Who despise secretly

The swords that knighted them

One wears the crow’s white throat

Pure grunge underneath the buttons

The other the statesman’s hat

Polished smooth in front

Moth eaten behind

One they hail the other they hallel

One possesses the first serpent’s tongue

And the other, Iago’s dutiful smile

They stand reeling in their drunkenness

Between them the river runs deep

Wine red with Egyptian plague

With filed teeth they take huge bites

From infantile feet which look on

With wordless soundless cries

Across the river a bridge of pregnant women

Lying on their backs unshod

They mount the bridge with the climber’s tool

Meet in the middle

Spit the flesh into the river and change sides

On their backs they search the bodies of painted toes

Which steal the sizzling fat

From stomachs fighting under cover

Wriggling their feet in childlike ecstasy

The two scream “look at me”

Between them the river runs deep with hell fire


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