To the Fierce Laughter of the Mountains

the wind crawls through me through the slopes
only my water is blue with sky light
the shell howls carefully where the brain
flip for the fifty-fifty night the offertory shield
but the wind crawls through the bedrock to sing
we are all obscurity’s fires trembling
sleep is almost reluctant to return
almost nobody ever splits it open
is a honeycomb cell of silence in the west
far beyond the sparkling atoms
the philosophical web of December trees
light is conducting two hush wants
with the venomous pretend motions through me
a toddler of wind crawls through the skyscraper
two buttonholes waiting like dry sponges
concentric fields swelling dusty chords
of this chasm I am wandering are awakened
the foghorn rooted in waves like tomorrow
the madness blossoms mouth a swamp