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On again bit anatomy.
Forced through wombed window,
not a door,
a window torn
into a wall
timely sledge-hammer,
hammering you down
from light to grey light,
from your tutelaries,
your deities,
our god,
our
one,
again
new acquaintance.
Heart tied to heart
thousand thousand hooves
wave crashing in.
Light caged in.
You are not born alone,
maybe
you’ll die alone.
Breathe through flesh
weighted ocean above,
nails dug in wood of home,
hear it coming,
hear it sharpen
to crush us,
we’ll die fighting.
See Padma blue
tossed ashore,
sound from beyond body,
tongue,
mouth,
lips,
teeth.
Beyond.
Gut,
diaphragm,
muscles
waiste.
Drift out
cupped hand flower.
Resting fate
Reinstate life
Dis-associated suffering.
Low burdened beast,
Cotton silenced keys,
crowns push aside
sentient thought,
systemic clearance
claws gnashing
fur wetted,
matted,
bloodied forest floor,
dig in
soft pink flesh.
Low.
Available to Purchase (£5 + Postage and Packaging) Here: https://veer2.org/N-L-Chaundler-Mother-Jar
N. L. Chaundler 