Till Final Bell Tolls

Witchcraft A dark moth-eaten voice Clinging to my splintered self Where morning stretches to wings of abstraction Above the rapids Birds whistling Fish shooting water rocks against rocks Arrows and arrows halted on recreation Horse lizards dance Wombs pump babies Into smiles An wince of return Remains alone in morose samovar In the table of a naked prostitute trying the same manoeuvre In the country where we call love Decency of sex Appeased I will pause Because I cannot bear to see My brothers have brought me so far My ancestors are asked for credentials in this brown earth For women mothers of our tribes Die before they reach childhood They look sulky Under-dressed aliens eyes dislodged Pricks on bodies bleeding sauces on ancient past Muscles wriggle like lost pythons Sweating for hungry dust I must pause Above the rapids Birth, living, death, rise and fall of civilizations I must find a place where I can push through the living grass Till final bell tolls For the river I pray For the bird I pray For the sky I pray For the tree I pray For the mountain I pray In translucent eyes I pray Till final bell tolls