the wine of sleep
ichorous blasted ash
dead angels turned to gas
arising
the wine of sleep gentle and black-eyed
gizzard swifter than a bullet in his lithe
repose
nighting the street
the lotus eaters’ spikes
microdot tattoo
from the sleeve of the earth
drunkard stumbles to the sea
to see the sun blink off and on
loose light bulb
the wine of sleep is bottled in the deep
by titans graven in their keep
their steps are slow but sound
as they ferment
sleeper sleeper in your coil
trembling
sleeper sleeper farmer son
black eyed and white
sleeper muddled and adrift
let me lift you from the eddy
branch and straw
paper boat
waking comes with his pack
quaking with the beasts he’s known and put inside
on his long journey
keep it still and set it down
the sun a foreign brother
speaking a language dead twenty thousand years
a giant in his kingdom lost and now returned
bearing your name stamped in his jewels
waking comes with his kingdom wrapped
with graceful notes and spirals
tattoos made by men and not machines
like Ing
cut by his father for his fire
burning over the hill
for all to see
you wake
