From JOAN
I spent all my solitude with you here
speaking in turn on the grass island
cattle with velvet ears and spikes of grass
as the coin of the sun decreased every day I fasted
farm gates and tomatoes grew in the dark
like the shy minds of yawning children
Burnt candles shed their pinebrushed light
and the bells signaled the way to vespers
The cold wind blew in blusters on my back
& I had more thoughts than there were stones in the river
but they were not heavy for me
I haven’t found anything yet, this was Domrémy
My squire would later say good luck is like a turned key
he would also say that fortune eats its children
**
young and have fallen into faceless hours
of August heat I would burn my thumb &
suck blood just to get closer than close
to some feelings of love in my own body
instead of just waiting for that calm
comes by turning dreams to swallow
spit like holy water
and nothing was painful and everything was
the very hot or very hot sun bowed down at once
evening sapphire draping her lace arias
on the fence posts secretly planted fields
I felt I could not understand
although I looked out the window at midnight
eyes like dried pears in winter barrels
how easy it is to be locked in the drawer of worship
for many years until it opened
and a raw desire to be very bad in love arose
my blue stamped muscles
emblems from each lonely day
I had buried my grace and then I sank digging
pulling out brick after brick of doubt and shame
there was no rest and it was not like sleep
it was like burning a match to your border
the tip of the fingers melts and runs into the grain
that year night came when I ate light
which arrived at the end of the day
until all I could see in the blue air bite
the moon rose like thunder
which had just slipped its reins
