My steady mind, chasing that mare-filled sun,
A bird; imaginary broken wings;
Trapped in ribs, kneeled to one.
Clawed and teethed, never wrung.
Rising, with or without and without, it sings:
My steady mind, chasing that mare-filled sun.
Annoying voices filling falling, leaking lungs—
Sewed with piercing bows and purple strings—
Trapped in ribs, kneeled to one.
Golden flesh, memories of tongue.
Newest one, paired clumsy hands, and to, it clings,
My steady mind, chasing that mare-filled sun.
The green men, a hundred and won
Begin a two, that truth it stings,
Trapped in ribs, kneeled to one.
Flaming stars, cupping death, wailing high, running run
Wander yonder under over turning rings.
My steady mind, chasing that mare-filled sun.
Trapped in ribs, kneeled to one.