conducting veinous electricity


These three mud-clay homunculi
hung from pink ribbons
in my tent – lumpy remains
from some Dance of Death?  My

mother must have brought them back
from Mexico (mud-angels
to guard her potter’s wheel).
Coatlicue of Quauhnahuac,

adamant Madre of encrusted Time!
Out of your bottomland
whirls eye-in-hand –
out of Monk’s Mound’s perennial slime...

Clay muscles rolling stone – conducting
veinous electricity –
out of nothing come to be
loaves loafing from the oven (rising,

singing).  A moss-green Isis by the Nile
(or in West Branch) you
rain your rivers blue,
compassionate Magdalen – your smile

lifts Jesús from the grave, raises
Enrique from the cemetery
too (some ordinary
day on Earth).  Hobo Jay cleanses

all hearts, rinses eyes with river-clay –
sighs, EPHPHATHA.  From boulders
God can lift up equal daughters,
equal sons... just look at buried Henry-manqué!


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