Jeff Harrison

Queen Nab Masquerade

a toast to you, passed-around worrier

dark surplus water rattling around as

you're bending breathing in white grasses

skin my enthusiasm & see how pretty

it is then, a sequential enthusiasm anatomy,

layers nabbed clear & ever clearer

if in such clarity we have silence & if

in silence we have death, then in echo we

have the cradle, words don't spread to the

edges of my breath, these edges are

spattered with blowflies, our bones are

the roots of the sky, the hair of our head is

the bottom seam, is the center of the Earth,

if this cup could snow, its saucer would be

a bank, Queen Nab, faint with feeding silence,

words imprisoned on hairs slender like stakes

dark surplus water in this toast time of your guts

© Jeff Harrison

///