Auğumla licks the world into meaning
1.
A sense of quiet is required here
Liquids, vowels, long sweet sonants,
Flow of sibilance.
Airstream flows throatwards
Flappy chords set sound rattling
Echo-caves' forge gives it resonance
Nasals, long ells, extensible
Semivowels glide towards warm explosion.
Hoard, straddling you massive
Pick my jewels, select
From my long-heaped treasures.
2.
My tongue shapes my world
Saltiness drools, runnels
In the slaver salt induces.
Tip does reels round round
Carves groove, laves granules
As icy salt dissolves,
Laps up under chin
Along bone to nape.
Lips emerge as
Crevasse cracks acknowledgment.
Blade does the shovel work -
Cross-beam, down long axis
Setting icicles as crenules pinning vertebrae
Round and up to plexus.
And it's tip again, circling
Leaving traces granular
Around nipple, and nipple,
For others to bring fruition to,
Spiral trace.
Down round belly
Circling clockwise
Working inwards to
Draw the outline of gut's dome
As it downs to thigh
And crosses to betoken common chromosome,
Salt's enjambment.
3.
Tongue has roots too
Sharpener of twig, vowels,
Nodes, epiphytes
And leaves - oh, yes, leaves -
Blades and tips life soughs
That, fallen, vein and
Map where crystals fall
Through death
To ice:
Packed, jewel furled
And waiting:
Replicant treasure.
1999
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