Actually, before we move on to the full-blown mortality
section, which will be the rest of the evening,
this is something that's somewhere in between.
It's a poem, very short poem that
has a bit of both in it, carnality and mortality.
Dedicated to Colleen Burns and Jim Burns.
This is set in Ireland, it's called "Sheela-Na-Gig."
"He has reached her island by stones pegged in swollen water,
through rain that has fallen for days.
He touches the welling mouth, the split stone.
She shows him the opening folds where
rainwater troubles and turns.
The rain slows, and stops.
Light deepens at the lid of the lake.
The water creased by the head of an otter, body of a bird."