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by Luke Jackson

Riven towers of stained glass shards,
Broken seashells, Mardi Gras beads,
Plunge to sepulchral orange mist,
Coral caves of those who breed.

Atavistic chromosomes
Writhe into mother’s chalice,
Knowing not ancestral light has dimmed;
Far shores become chrysalis.

Crumpled flesh and groping limbs,
Barked mewling and a scream.
Another unhappy, desirous beast
Is sphinctered into being.

Metronome of gurgling rasps,
Bright vacancies of sight,
Thought approaches template signs
Cleaving right from might.

In those final dusty hours
When the clock chimes for the end
“Go into the light,” she says
And it all starts up again.

Copyright © 2007 by Luke Jackson

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