WEBVTT

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Falling into the Earth,
but by the Earth embraced,

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the world ensnares even
bare, even divorced of green,

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of ivy bright, of
midnight in the yoke,

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of light beneath the wave and
waves as the lake shallows

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to nothing, as the lake
shallows to a stone

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it swallowed, and the stone
swallows itself in dust.

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And I am this dust.

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And my wife, this dust,
latched to dust, we love.

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The Earth falling at
equal speed into the sun.

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The sun falling into nothing.

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At the core, the compasses point
on, which the needle spins,

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soddered to abyss.

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The jailors keys float
beyond us on an orbit ring.

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None beg mercy.

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But mercy comes, mercy bounds.

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It binds this grave, falling
drones beneath our song.

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The lock turned echoes goes
through the prison's hall

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forever, gear turning, single
metal note, no song ringing.

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Do you hear it?

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That droning note
whose sound is nothing.

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Against it, we speak such
words, against nothing.

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It is our melody that's heard.

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Wistful and wondering, she
would sit in summer weather

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by the high fender in the
lodge, looking up at the sky

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through the barred window,
until bars of light

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lit her eyes when she
turned her eyes away,

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between her and her friend.

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And she would see him
through a grating, too.

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Thinking of the field,
the turnkey said once,

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after watching her, ain't you?

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Where are they, she inquired?

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Why they're over there,
my dear, said the turnkey,

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with a vague
flourish of his key.

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Just about there.

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Does anybody open
them and shut them?

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Are they locked?

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These bars of green wheat
will be golden in a month.

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The bars will brittle, our
mouths full with nothing.

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Nothing questions us, the
questioners, under oath.

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The oats claim lists, the husk
abyss, to lengthen the verdict,

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we plead innocence.

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