zodiac bedchamber (dirt, fire and feathers)

these birds must die
oh predictable pattern
"flocking and flogging"
on sunday afternoon
The phoenix charred, frozen in form
I am Bennu, in an unlikely Eve suit.

born, not in water
or fire
but from fire
hearing the whispers of
oviparous house sparrows
her poor chicks
her sad mate
this bitch won't quit

on my back on the battlefield
a white leaf covers each eye
electric green veins attach
to blood shot through vessels
variegate, become one
transporting venom.

opaque film shrinks and sticks
to blue and black eyes.
ferns grow around ears
tickling scalp, lacing brainwaves.
root eats at bone, livid and twisting.

your hands move up, past death, sod and stone
grappling at hips and bringing me home
back into you, into filth, into earth
to our zodiac bedchamber
grounding and honest

and here lands the vulture
with dirt at my neck,
my arms outstretched
I'm rocking and living,
being fed the first time
eyes meet,
the buzzard
takes flight in the day

my hand on the barrel
blind and precise.