Lapis Lazuli

 

I see a ghost

with the corner of my eye, in the corner of my eye;

a ghost of edge species

a ghost of edge species.

Marginalia are screaming to be seen and-

 

-I turn,

 

but they scream to be seen

and their scream is void.

Looking with my eyes turned away,

they dance

their lapis lights in the dark

they eat mud 

and lose themselves in transparency, translucency,

diaphanous wings,

wings fluttering and yet-

 

-I turn 

and the silence is greeting

 

How does one grasp this obscure? (obscure, ghostly, hidden)

 

I’ve been looking to my left

The edge was always there

the corners of the edges of the left

the marsh and the water

and the water 

and the wa- 

and the w-

 

I am slugging,

sludge, 

out of riffraff,

gone,

pouf!

 

The slug,

the sludge, 

the mud, 

the wholy mother is calling me in,

a chthonic remembrance of it

spiked my mud tricho-

fingerlings.

 

And I dip.

 

I dip 

in the deep;

the deep with no end,

the deep, the deep

the deep that envelops; 

the deep that engorges,

that deep that consumes,

that deep,

that un-bottomed,

It hugs, It grabs, It reaches.

And in the primordial footsteps-

 

-I fall 

 

and the lazuli are 

stars on my forehead

the lazuli are

there and they smile.

I am violent-

 

-We are violent,

 

we are steaming 

our bitter

pikra and medicinal poisons;

our members,

membranes, mucus, spit

is melting 

and melting

melting

mel-

m-

 

the lazuli are 

puffing glimmers off

of our rotten remains.

Look at them go!

 

We scream,

screach, 

scry,

wraths wailing, 

welp,

distort,

detort,

de-birth,

of sludge the slug,

erupts;

 

-the song of the Swamp

and someone’s edge is caught on our edges.