“& from wherever thou willst thou gatherest me” – “steel from the belly of Aries,/Or that cold fire which plays/above the sea/White sow munching acorns in graveyards where roots/of oaks wrap powdery bones of the devas./ There, suckle at my tits. Crucify/me like a beetle on yr desk. Nod out/admist the rustling play of lizards, recognize/ epics the lichen whisper. read twigs/& leaves as they fall/ Nurture my life with quartz & alabaster/& drink my blood from a vein in my lower leg/ I neigh, I muzzle you, I explode/ your certain myth/ I crawl slimy from a cave beneath yr heart/ I hiss, I spit oracles at yr front door/in a language you have forgotten. I unroll/the scroll of yr despair, I bind yr children with it./ It is for this you love me/It is for this/you seek me everywhere/ Because I gave you apples out of season/Because I gnaw at the boundaries of the light.”
Diane di Prima, Loba. via
Sweetheart
when you break thru
you’ll find
a poet here
not quite what one would choose.
I won’t promise
you’ll never go hungry
or that you won’t be sad
on this gutted
breaking
globe
but I can show you
baby
enough to love
to break your heart
forever
Song for Baby-O, Unborn, Diane di Prima
