there is a centre somewhere

hidden in an eternal midday mist

there is a heart nearby

past the thorny barbs

a singing sweet forever

lost in the deepening dark

while

my kingdom’s crown lay cold

upon amythest and marble

just past the reach of this adam’s arm

till black grows the sky

in flies that pour from a poor man’s rot

 

but

 

sharp focused is this cold blue eye

on God’s gold shards that

pierce me in hard-edged truth

cutting away the world

leaving the word

naked word