The Speech of the Blue Marm

Her speech a bomb in my ear
a word to crawl in, an entire town
Her tongue a wide muscle
that punches the air
and sends down a glassy tide
upon me here
trapping me inside
beneath and low and down

Trapped in this factory
a land not my own here is
I recall recently
by piebald fireside, in the
shade of a dead bull’s prayerful eye
I watched the world’s
bright colors alight
at that the Center
to be sucked away by the
King of Lies, villainous drifter!
His cloak his dark birthright
With it he ate the stars

Now within the forest
I become myself again
fargone, lost and drugged
My mood is sour
My heart now thrums
But no drums
Never drums
No Maid in sight
and my birthright
this iron slum
this Twin
gone dumb

above me
a shining bulb so bright
descends and hangs
illumes the farthest sides
and penetrates the land

I raise mine own hands
and block the mechanical light
occlude this raped wasteland from my sight
and from my kneeling stance try to stand

And I am shouted down
by the firstborn Sister Marm:

Economy I! Thou Crawl!
It means nothing that
you should rebel
You will still buy, purchase
and the trees will still fall

Soft now, no light now
All gone, and the stars are
hewn from the sky
for they are owned

But no not forever
Just once and again
You must use your imagination
Rebel Friend
One bends over, sucks,
sucks, draws, swallows,
pens a pretty poem!
about a whore –
this saintly whoredom –
and then
repeats again

thus the market wins
so the death of clans
the best laid plans
of men and men
their bodies stripped of meaning
and their women turned upon them

The felled tree too is a paperback
violence, a Californian
split-second glance:
it passes, it passes, it passes

Here again with swift incessancy
comes the time to
suck, to raise
to hold

I, Blue Bound and so not morose,
I raise my hands skyward,
thighward, lewd
lumberjacking with
incalculable constancy
with such mechanism
and in mechanism such beauty!
The fire is out
yet the market is lit!

You see I sew the seeds, lash and whip the rod,
assail the trees, suck the amber sap,
then again I cut the bough,
and thereby castrate
a dEAD fORGOTTEN gOD
how odd was he! how strange and odd!

Speak, Rebel Bone
We see you want to speak

You talk of trees
Of trees you speak
Yet here they are all iron
and filled with amber blood
like beads I slip on them
their lifesong’s stony flood!
I must climb upon them higher
I must take to a glass boat
and drift here so high above
even as I am below
pining for my ancient fire

Hush! Hush, Child
says that whore Economy,
blue book in hand,
as bound she as the book
has been
She stands upon the glass
layered there upon me
in ribald splendor
she begins her weird repast

and eats, and eats
devours
the same dough-white
devils that led me here
those pasty fellows

Yea, a millionfold
tramp, stamp, walk
as white as crushing blind
is white, and blind as white
has lack, rejecting all color
on principle, all talk
so vamped of other
speaks, lingual peaks
become caustic
and rust out all
our body’s thoughts!

You must
Hear now
Their marching
Each step
A fall
And crunching
No blushing!

She eats those who pass her by
and shows no remorse
Her God is spittle
and a white-dough Apple Pie

Hush, hush, Child
she says again
devouring
Speak not while I illume you
and lay my wordy blessings upon your glassy heart
all while my sister sings

No, you are nothing
and your sister,
she is mute

I am not nothing
Yet, though blind, you are astute
Yea, I am a Juggler Queen
I am the birthing residue
of all men’s lacking
and getting
to find they lack again
even the power then
to choose

You know the feeling
as surely as you know the drink
Kingly Drunk
To lack
Then to have
To use
And then discard

Tell me you know that not
and I will cease my lecture
Tell me you that not
and I shall lay down my gifts:
All Pleasures
good weather
soft feathers
and a pill that kills the stoic's leisure

I know not what I know
My memory is gone
I am the moment,
wandering once by the fire just now
Spied I a dead thing
And its eye was mine
And my eyes bore
Witness to a reflection:
a pale black shade to
awaken me

To see, startled,
that I am not what I once had been
Yes I am the present
and have left that,
the Place of the Blade

The Sister speaks
her gold book closed
her speech is sung
and so sung, staid -
an opera upon her tongue
a flower and cross
crowned upon her head

Who then is he
He there beneath our arms
Who kneels so respectfully
before we, the Sister Marms?
Looks he like you who speaks beneath.
Could it be, you are the same
and should I be concerned
Should we be alarmed?

My Twin he is
and a liar he is
now mute
I claim him not
He has no truth

Will he hear too my song
asks the second Marm
which has its own stark truth?

Yes, I will hear the song,

She leans, her
body a fleshy bow.
She leans to say:
turn then upon your belly
and face your brother there
Place you your hands upon the glass
and open your eyes

now stare

Read the Lyric from the Beginning