ORPHIC HYMN



Sere yellow hill,
                    purple mountains, Wedgewood sky
          reflected in a lake, the Doppler
shift of invisible cars rising and falling like the breeze
                                   against my skin,
white eye-dazzling quicksilver mirror of the sun
                    bare feet rooting into grass
          eternal between now and now
                     extending tendrils, nodes, rhizomes
in bark-skin tree solidarity just awake enough
                                   to catch
               the blades of grass gossiping, hear
          their tiny heartbeats
                                   meat
rushing to bury itself in the black earth
          Jesus, Buddha, Shiva, Gilles Deleuze, Hiroshima,
                  as the moment of this intersection
bleeds out across immanence at the speed of light
                             from a man
                  on a sere yellow hill

forever.

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