The 19th Solar Ovulation


In a dark hollow of oblivion
At the zenith of my intrepid vitality,
A hollow envy does sear the severed mind,
Blinds the light as the darker spheres align;

Here the waving, here the paths unwind,
Here in our dark groping places
The oiled emerald crown tears at the forest nerves,
Bellies in the crested scales, a dragon in her gown,
Down soft as the stars slowly drop;

Her trailing delights, an intrepid dizzy hop,
Born in this coil misery, broken as the ancestral harp
Burns the finger in the crooked act.

Down there in the bright rooms we made our dizzy pact,
Forgive us Jove, our gaseous drives assume dominion,
And in our hollow void of confusion,
We find a city of dark communion.

Our frail grasp of hypnotic control,
Under a milky bridge, the starlight troll
Breaks a promise, drags the teeth closer,
Reforms a monster through every cloudy mouth.

Burn and sink our seeming seek of shelter,
Our common tongues refined to fill
The druid time of hollow estrangement,
Waking as the silver walls of brick
Flake and crumble to the fallen, languid still.

Let our circling quests enlighten,
Where the mammals settle and swirling frighten,
A wicked wild gust thrust the glutton to the throne;

Our hollow mild babbles let the planes and tissues freely ravel,
Let the brittle drones of music fill the hollow bone.


Convert the starlight limbs and sleeves of light,
Let them forage through the purple hue,
There, her serpent wrought in the awkward instance,
Slithes in shields of silence, a broken fate,
Whirls as smoke to naught on a blade of wind,
There, the morphic blathering mass.

Let our devout languages fill the hollow voids of importance;

There the assertions fail with every crack
Of each cold hand, dead and pale.

Our mystic shimmers throbbing from the palms,
To rise the object untouched,
Face the lawless darkness with unfelt time
And turn the flabby mammals to an unencountered rhyme.

Yes, our quest to learn the rest,
To straddle in her lean, sapphire chest,
Our quest to wander in sterile manifest,
Through the hollow leave of unseen realm,
Through again an unperpetuated time.

To have control,
And leave our land of worries,
To face the end in a nauseous chaos of strengths,
And pleasantly return to our place of hollow belonging.


I had her in the clutching spell,
A dry rock touched again by that silver rising sea;

But again the partial doubts overwhelm,
And the laws of carnal time smother to a slumber;

Even at my nineteenth round about the central hollow fire,
The force that whirls the winding frame of naught
Took her as I forged through vegetative ought;

And even at this zenith of illusion,
My mind is limply woven to seclusion.

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