1. THE SKIES DO GIVE SUCCOR

The dark engorged
On mordant white blood
Fulminous heart in the breach
Who among us
Would not weep?
Etched upon the sable hearth
And shadowless light

Empty of essence
My mind flees from my hand
The lewd shapes skirl
Through sight and nonsight

When my wounds sing
I am silent as the night's hold

The manifold agonies
Of history's beasts rise
In feverish, pitiful chorus
The dead suddenly thronged
The dead suddenly flesh
Tear out the dragon's throat

Interloper
Treader of edges
That are not edges
Limits in dreaded rasps

Interloper
Treader of edges
That are not edges
Limits in dreaded rasps

Those spurious gods
Lost in the ecstasy of blood rites
Their brows scorched and worn thin

When my wounds sing
I am silent as the night's hold