“Raucous Profound”

Touch my art, in raining dark;
thirst as Vlad in raining dark.

Chapbook kingdom, disastrous,
winds thrall vap in raining dark,

patchwork songs. What yawning void
strains this coil in raining dark?

Autumn martyrdom whips out
spoils of slag in raining dark.


'I shrugged. "Peace on earth through reason and order no
longer has any appeal to the imagination. That possibility has been rejected." ' --Hella Haass*, Thr*shold of Fir* (1964; tr Mill*r, Blinstrub 1993)