The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

January 16, 2010


I am a shaman without redemption or belief.
I am pummeled fingers and blue electric hair.
My hair wraps your eyes when they leave your body.
My hair of cobalt on leashes of zinc and tin.
I have done enough to bury my body in text.
My body of text is my body of noise and hair.
niagara falls grand prix 1988

2 lullabies

lullabies with babies breaking branches
yet surprisingly surviving all the fall
and wondering at the pondering of number
skittered song across the floor of
regulated number, strict upon haunches,
close to the wall, yet thriving,
creaking stanchions, nothing more than
may-bees, so many wrong, loss, deriving,
set, quaking, peeking, long

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