1. Bereshith

That was the summer of the storm;
the summer of no summers, of
buds plucked and husked by the winds
and sown to foreign lands
before they flourished.
Sheepherder I, not to lead any flock
but to cease being led.
(home is brick and burning oil
but here I breathe alone!)

then the thunder like a trembling sky-drum
darker, faster,
gathering dust,
tosses hearts like frightened birds
up, up, up

and begins

2. Prolegomenes
no no brilliant guy high school knew him deaf cochlear impla--anyways last week batshit crazy no note or anything gone. empty apartment mountains scrawled on the drywall. god knows where.

3. Kyrie
the churches are full, so I
sit in my pew and
dream I am a bird
that was about to sing
but decided to fly--
to cut through thick and foggy air
not for beauty but for movement--
and falls from the branch into the wind.

bells catch me before the air does
so I follow my mother's skirts
to the candles.

beside me, older than old, green-man
leaf-man, vine-man,
flesh from the soil.

My mother tells me of rebirth and I listen
As though not yet--but soon--
some crop has failed.

4. Broadcast from the archives
And last year's summer
like a beaten dog, falling halfway
and dragging--howling--
as we shed our winter coats.

everyone in everyone in everyone
--then picnics in the basement with mice
and canned peaches and static from the CBC

the world an endless thirsty ground--
and so we walked.

5. Damascus
O our brothers! they said
And followed me
as though I knew the way.

We are the shattered roots of this earth
that stumble up mountains like drunken trees.

(And mother said, hold tight--hold on
I can't be left behind.
And all of us with shopping carts
And only dead to find!)

north north north
there is the snow there are the trees
there are the reapers singing songs
in fields that yield all autumn long
with voices sweet as honeydew
to steer the aimless wanderer true
beyond the wastes and mountains steep
(for we have memories we keep
from all the miles) ANOTHER ONE

After rifling--three dollars

two birds

three photographs (combustible)

6. We melt into rain

Sharna pax and up the pole

Riddley walks and drags the old

   dib dib dib dib 

DOB DOB DOB DOB DOB

and so we march

with dust on the breath.

7. Brendan the Navigator

 his eyes!

oh his eyes

open and unblinking

terrifying to find him

alone on the crag

tense as the string

of an aeolian harp

but nothing, 

nothing

next to the eyes.

scarred and blunted 

as though some shde of fire

had passed its hand

over his sight,

as though the storm

had borne him up,

folded him in movement 

and showed him--

what pulls a soul to higher parts

if only the feeling of infinity

pressing down,

down, down?

We shoved dirt onto him until he stirred

8. To Cure the Dead by Lightning

When summer folded into fall

And we heard winter's quiet call

We took our men to holy tents

And gave our blood for temperance

To choose he who would call the rain.

O hornèd god--o sickle-veined!

O saviour knotted to the oak

Beneath the virgins' fires stoked

until the sky wept from our strife.

(And so a green death brought back life.)

9. Ban Martre

(They found me on the mountain but

there is no pain here--

there are no eyes to pierce you here.)

Three men to bind him on the rocks

(I wished for blindness but there were no crows)

Listen (leave him) for the drums!

(but I saw it once)

and he will hang until he brings

(I was once wind)

and he will hang until we hear it

he will hang until

(this is the way the world

this is the way

this is the)

power and the glory 

and after us

(after me the)

after

rain

rain

rain

rain

rain.

This is my final project for English 1800-Present. Modernist style, romantic context. Does it work? Please critique and let me know. Sorry for the length. Too much Eliot in me.