6 Hands

The Fourth Hand Caresses

“Gold”
never glistens
unless you circle
the sun

With a flash of light
Everything emanates
From this
This one

Secrecy
Hidden in the open
Upon the plain
Inside the heart

*

The bird stares down
From the woody copse
His left eye
The sun

His right
The other one

His head twists
Round
And stares
At the stump
That was
The hand
of the descending
bones

a man and bull
joined
weirdly

*

Sitting there
In the sweating lodge
Is the man I have sought

I Lahoon
A bag of bones
Prisoner
Dissenter
My right hand gone

I see his left is shorn

Strange that we should mirror
Even in memory
Nothing is clear

And there he sits
With the flap undone
A blast of smoke above him
And below him the cold hard ground

There to his side
The skull I recall
A bone as old as God
A buffalo’s
Skull
No flesh now
All bone

Upon which
Blood was spent
Of my Beloved
Wasted,
Homeless blood

A hand as long as horizon
Eyes as dark as sleep
Left hand
Trigger finger
Torn from knuckles
And white knobs revealed
Beneath

Yea’ he is my enemy
But here no malice
Remains

We are the same
We are the same

His hand caresses
The stone-hard bone
Again and again it moves
With slowburned delicious
Grace
Traces he upon the bone
His name

in
wet, with sweat
not tears
with sweat
not blood
writes he

Across the day
And through the years

Speaks he

He’s whispering my name
I’m whispering his

We are the same
We are the same

Brothers
With two eyes
Between
And three
In twain

Lahoon
Rebel Bone

is the name

Read the Lyric from the Beginning