jocelyn saidenberg    



I N V I S I B L E  W O R M


All aid to Our Desolate through her self-knowledge
Being one herself she built a hospital for them,
They who abhor all ceremonies and lunch on vultures.
Indefensible, unpardonable, reprehensible
Repetition roads her to loss destroying surfaces.

Our Desolate domesticates the haunted and beasts alike
Giving gifts of trees whose bark they ate also
While deploring the grain—for anatomy not supplied
To the unnamable. Crimson Desolate makes a souvenir
From memory diseased in cordus or cardus, her
Morbus is her industry overlaid with epidemics
Enormous and hereditary in body’s howling winds that

Mulcts and pains. She hates the hawks for their belligerences
Rashly sluggishly timidity who makes secret love destroy
Substitutes for elsewhere and questions are about.
Our Desolate darts fearless, branching and swelling
She’s shaking wildly all difficulty stripped of affection,
Ours tangles and finds herself in night sweats prevailing

In early morning hours as an exercise in aggression and mooring
The shimmering of haze and cardboard figures shaded
By deficits larger than any mouth. Our Desolate’s orifice
Is vastness as no abnormality goes unremarked.










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