The cockroach I keep in a
box winds my watch.I
wake in my prison cell
and disturb a bean
floating in a cold coffee
cup, I long for a God to
hold up the earth swimming
through space, outside my
window a bird sings, in a
mirror I see the messiahs
bloody face, the bird disturbs
an earthly rhythm with the
flicker of his wings. In blood
with a feather I transcribe his
song, I sing to ripen the ecstasy
of a prison throng and they chant
to make prison walls vanish. I
listen to a bird articulate every
unspoken wish of the dispossessed
and I am blessed in the yard where
night and day are partitioned.
box winds my watch.I
wake in my prison cell
and disturb a bean
floating in a cold coffee
cup, I long for a God to
hold up the earth swimming
through space, outside my
window a bird sings, in a
mirror I see the messiahs
bloody face, the bird disturbs
an earthly rhythm with the
flicker of his wings. In blood
with a feather I transcribe his
song, I sing to ripen the ecstasy
of a prison throng and they chant
to make prison walls vanish. I
listen to a bird articulate every
unspoken wish of the dispossessed
and I am blessed in the yard where
night and day are partitioned.