my full song has yet to be
born but it
was sung yesterday and it
will be sung
tomorrow my first song is birthed by wood, stone and
participle it was sung before and will again my loud
song is silent, but silence is dawn, and it has your roots.
The mouth saying nothing. The air saying live and die.
The womb saying welcome, the sun saying Dare.
– Muriel Rukeyser from ‘Unborn Song’
this cot of unsong/birthed
with revel this
brood of a long slant of edged faith this crime
this crime teaching further buds to unburden the crime
this cot yes
this cot of unsong flame