Joe Pulver - A dedication to Jean Benoît
RUNE GRAMMOFON POEM [65.b]
they made him from bricks
his sandals
his cloak
his open mouth
rushing with storytellers hard as closer
a bird sat on his shoulder
wings spread like a mighty cross
many where the masked round faces
that hid in the clouds his hands waved away
in the space he created
he mixed passion with eternity
then he howled
until his desire gleamed
bright as the sun in a fit of anger
a webbed-winged bird large as the sabbath
and a butterfly appeared
on wet red ground they mated
when the dance of desire was complete
the bird ate the butterfly
then rubbed an egg from under its wing
inside was a brick
it rose on two totem legs
spread its flame-thorned wings
and opened its mouth
I will not be defeated he said
"after Jean Benoît"
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biosphere / deathprod les fleurs du mal
© Joe Pulver