Saturday, February 24, 2007


HERE I stand
paralysed by
this twisted
bowel, brain
quarry, prey
and standing
in the teeth
of the stink
I take stock

Father, Zeus
Danae, nurse
I am Perseus
I'm the bolt
who revolved
and resolved
himself born
the very nut
wound 'round
silver strut
snake sprung
from the gut

The past now
the prophesy
my office is
to break the
outer clutch
of the shell
that cuts an
exposed foot
in search of
a pure pearl
chained fast
to the stone

So bright is
her sky that
tiny strokes
a paintbrush
plied on the
snowy canvas
lay a yellow
halo of hair
upon leg and
the underlip
Amber fibres
coil by coil

So that that
copper flame
framed round
the darkling
lip of bliss
and its bung
line by line
in that dawn
each exactly
the arrested
precision of
new daylight

Rosy fingers
of the bards
I've seen as
in our lodge
nipples rose
to sun-shaft
closing each
fierce wound
of this root
of humankind
throbbing in
a lonely bed

And I kissed
those pearls
that strayed
from spittle
And my mouth
sliding down
pulled sweet
at the lilac
as her mouth
caught at me
hot and cool
and she said

The world is
in spite its
seeming size
just a mural
and its wall
the mind, is
its mountain
to scale. If
she said, we
have courage
then come up
dear, ascend

My reverie's
an absurdity
a fat finger
clutching at
and prodding
til the taut
string limps
No fine line
can aid, but
nth-drawn, a
wound-up gut

Her coven is
the covet of
a gallery of
ossified men
I must stare
despite fear
where for me
the other is
a true scale
of the world

This is that
bright aegis
I will bring
to the panic
and at amber
shine of eye
reflecting a
hole of hell
all my sword
and my blood
will rise up
to the chaos

I, within me
revolved and
through this
I'm resolved
As I crawled
to the world
from my home
inside Danae
So I will to
the Gorgon's
and kill the
putrid bitch

© Dan Goorevitch

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