* *

People build towns on hills.
They don’t care what Noah would think about them.
There is always a way to learn the age of the water,
Always a way to ask what it doesn’t like to keep hidden.
Noah is jealous like a thousand beavers in a meadow,
Dead like stranded fish. But Jonah builds Trojan whales
And leaves them on the highest mountains he can reach.
They rot for centuries exposing the empty guts
To the genial sun and astounded silent birds.
The void conquers God while the prophets relax below.
The higher you climb, the less your voice needs you.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s