Monday, June 20, 2011

In the uh there was a ukh,
from the cough of the word,
came a calf: meat

we ate like it wasn’t golden,
& saw ourselves more godly by
till we ingested it. Then out

spilled the soft gold from our
gut, leaving our throats
gilded, & our god molded anew.

With a flake of god
in our gullets, we sung, to gold
resembling what was hung

inside us. O you, who turn up all
you eat, will find your food
insepr’ble from your song.