A Poem for Guideposts
I made a pie of light
Sat me down in front
The glaze sucked all the blue out of the air
I was a pilot search
Went intrinsically backward
The moss of my feet booked me in
Moss and wet cold
I held my spine up natural head natural like a top spins
Will God deny me anything
God will I eat a piece of the world
Piece of gone
There was a steaming wedge but it was not a piece it was
The whole boat
It was carried
Our shoulders dirt our shoulders smell like come
Swerve round this round that balancedly
The one plate and the other at varying levels till the table comes
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