. . .golden address

physician check my circulation
golden address I mutter more and louder
in this telephone    the anchorite
taps barcodes out   longshort
the end was coming 'til we missed
the end / is coming

     . . .gasstop

red clay i am on
in    red clay    i am
coming to account
though track in track out
my place (this was valdosta)
of minor rivers
if i'm too old for this (have been)
then i'm being too old
why in the inlet fiddlers
but the sea
carnivorous trunks

     . . .ephphatha

that is be opened
the second is this
keep awake
drowsy
keep awake
in all this biblical heat
the way likened to a two-lane road
compressor touch and go
. . .I can see people but they look like trees. . .
. . .I believe; help my unbelief!

     . . .let man's soul be a sphere

column of dust
like a thread like orange lips      foreshortened
/god laid out
draft me
winding lines
*flapping crowns of skin torn out of the feet
   resolve me molecular
   converse me electric
let us talk about whatever
   tangere tangere
   lapping the milk on the floor
even as it's water
passing thirsty, friend
as water thinning milk
as said all miracles have stopped
and living is skimmed
take down all curtains
we've nothing to hide

      . . .in the house of mary & martha

in the palmetto state
at the running tap
sands and clays and the source
in the rock that'll follow me
we are    in our place
in the ear of mary
the hand of martha
in a glance as it's gone
like an audience in the soul
which contains them
   so loved
   flesh
   to be made
   a guest
come in    let us in
come in
the sea inside the house
we go across all day
in remembrance of the sink
the hinged face of the holy body

thus we look into the face of god
floating cupboard of each face
let us in    come in
let us in, we'll rest
come in, we'll travel together

Copyright © Aaron McCollough, 2004.