A Sea-Shaken House (Protected from Wind and Wave)

Then I thought, ‘I shall die in my nest,
and I shall multiply my days like the phoenix;
my roots spread out to the waters,
with the dew all night on my branches[.’]
          —Job 29:18–191


The breath taken before a word is spoken,
warmth broken by a sword of tongue forging in-
to a moment what your imagination
offers up to manifestation, a sea-
shaken house protected from wind & wave making
no mistake saying with its fortitude that
this is the place of great transformation, where
everything is granted and nothing is

taken, giving in to its invitation
foregoing the hindrance of groaning spittle
battling the rainbow bridge vibrating between
consciousness & unforgiving inhibition,
lightning-fingered wisdom an agile spinner
unwinding destinies, threading tears of gold
& pearl through storms to repair, restoring a fate
to torn tarot hearts someone else’s glass has


worn to shards, a visionary hand’s power
showering in conviction whose unbelief
deceives them those whose complacency’s shadow
of gold lies on their heads the way a tongue does
in a dried-up riverbed, assaulted by
multitudinous voices competing with
mine sighing, trying to remind you in time
to deny them access to your mind, to stop

listening lest in your foolishness you let
in a tempestuous force’s fantasies
only encourage more of, stirring up all
this chaos, go put a lying spirit in
your mouth, spitting out false testimony, such
slanderous acrimony against us fools
whose souls move about this walled garden freely,
misery incorporating love in its


takeover of each other’s company, our
genius whispering to us every friend
an enemy eventually, love who
deceived me went without my touch for one month
that felt like an eternity, above your
head a lemniscate not a halo, symbol
of just how long we will have to go without,
that suffering is cyclical, relentless

until it gets under our skin and rips
the paper of this lantern life is, leathern
cavern in which some divine spark dwells, lonely
foreskin out of which emerges a throbbing
head, an aching taper hell wets itself with,
as if touching himself the devil in us
proved nothing else but this exists, this bombshell
of bliss blinding in its blond-tinged explosion


into oblivion transgressions rubbed out
the way a pinch snuffs out an altar’s candles,
to say nothing of taking on water, nor
praying’s power to rebuild from within this
temple breaking under the weight of angels
redrawing The Tower, humiliation
needed like a hole in the tip to let in
and cleanse with it heaven’s light which spreads wide love’s

white whine, eclipses with illumination
the eye of this column whose shaft lost sailors
welcome when tossed about on nights far from home,
harder than stone, without warning one word can
soften to sand the resolve of one man in
whose bones resounds an echo your mistaking
for a sign of god’s absence this deafening
silence of mine dawn’s thunderclap awakens.

1“Job”, [Chapter] 29[, Verses] 18–19, in “The Hebrew Scriptures Commonly Called the Old Testament: New Revised Standard Version” of The Holy Bible: containing the Old and New Testaments with the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical Books: New Revised Standard Version, published at New York by Oxford University Press in 1989; page 524.