Tuesday, November 3, 2009
He Won't Stand Beating
Five of Swords
Each sword a slice of time,
It’s mine, it’s mine, an hour
You left behind, dropped and ran
Into the smoke, into the slime.
Whole days once yours I now possess.
They call us vultures when we glean
The fields for the fallen. Sometimes
Those I step around are still alive. Today, I found
A world from sundown to dawn, time
For one lover, two bottles, three songs—
I keep accounts, pile seconds into stacks.
The oracle said to find time I must be clever;
I will be clever, leave off
Fear or feeling my own wounds.
A chunk of iron to a wing,
Black feathers fly loose,
No matter, no time:
I see another minute
You let fall,
And now it’s mine.
Image: Today I stole the card from Serennu, home of geniuses, the source for any astrological aspect and most obscure asteroid you could want to know about, and a random tarot generator on top of all that.