POEM OF THE DAY
Fuzzy Wuzzy
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a quark,
Fuzzy Wuzzy roamed the dark,
until three by three
Fuzzy Wuzzy boards the ark.
By the covenant of god our mother
I am cast into an alchemical bullet
and fired each night into dreams
like an accelerated particle
into a target, like a sperm
into the womb, like an isaac
abrahamed into the toiling fonts
of the enslaved alphabet.
Each night I take up the hooked razor
polished by Gorgons
and slice off my eyelids
(The better to see you with, my dear.)
and go sleepwalking in the meaning world.
Eyes unable to close,
the light is driven like spikes
into the sockets of this dreaming skull,
and vision is graven on memory
like hoarfrost etched on stone by nova.
Not until all the millenia run down
the writhing spiral,
the caduceus of our genes;
not until the hill of motes
is piled the ziggurat of Babel,
a little cone of silver sand
collected in the bottom
of infinity's tilted hourglass;
not until I remember it all;
not until I have gathered all the bread
cast upon the waters by Sailor Noah
and I sew my eyelids back on,
ready to forget again; not until I am
ready to turn the glass
will I close my eyes and wake.
Dana Pattillo, from Little Mother: A Psalter
PoD 62
6:49:13 PM 
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