Friday, August 20, 2010

The last spoken word he heard

Go deep in the forest, the stix

you’ll need for a bundle--a faggot

The trees’ sheddings, without wick

break easily. Bind one, bind a faggot

In Winter, the makings more visible

The stems of oaks: a small faggot

For the sake of fire, pull branches

from what you scouted—the faggot

Three dozen a long way go

Together—makes flame, a faggot

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