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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