Song

Ne deeth, allas! ne wol nat han my lyf - Geoffrey Chaucer

One, pain hobbled, avoids friendly circles,

working on lines infinity evaded,

spinning bone sphere mapping rock sphere spinning -

leaf mother, drop me strong vines, let me hang.

Old limbs dream secession from their shrunk spines,

leaving its thoughtful head ridiculous,

co-ordinating imagined impulses

and the rebellion fails at its dulled parts,

flesh-hacked, hooked in the mouth, famished, flabby.

Though all the coils unravel yet they hold,

tenacious beyond the grip of desire,

the umbilical worm self-half-strangling

Published Poetry New York - a related poem has appeared in Neon Highway