LISTEN or DOWNLOAD this poem. On The Third Day read by Josh Kight.
On The Third day
In the lounging field
In the cotton White Webs
In the swinging Egyptian air
In the coffin’s mouth
In the toothless red satin
Lay my father.
The day was anybody’s day.
The day was bone inside out.
The day was a stalking feckless wind.
The day was a buzzing newspaper.
The day was an orphaned quarter.
under night’s solvent gaze.
Born in humming arias
Born in impoverished candy vats
Born in desperate flavored granite.
Born in the improbable seeded bed.
Born in Rome’s loathing embrace.
Another re-awakening.
And I’d never seen his grave.
And I’d never felt his loss.
And I’d never read his letter.
And I’d never seen him fear.
And I’d never built his sugared temple.
But the sun finally stirred
the discolored stalks
of pressed grass.
Joshua Kight 4/10/07