Monday, July 30, 2012

my brain a compost pile steaming

my brain a compost pile steaming
needs another layer of leaf mulch 
to stop the stink to sink to depth to reconnect
nerves are worms, moving and making
new dirt (thought) out of shit (shit)

my brain a loamy heap steaming
churns yesterday's detritus into tomorrow's flowers
grey matter brown matter gooey stew
there is nothing left out, no castoffs, no away
no escape

i settle into the underground tramways
the neural-vermal chutes and slithers
until still as a morning settling into itself
i come clear, whole, 
ready to nurture seedlings and sprouts  
these new/ancient thoughts
recursive in their curvilinear clarity
weaving themselves into braided leaves
bright blossom then heaving back to muck
then sliming again into smooth soft dirt

1 comment:

  1. Yes! "then sliming again into smooth soft dirt"
    we get to be worms too.