there were scents of woodsmoke ,of bur
ning wet wood .the truths coming through
made patternless coordinates there
were people & they got sexed
as gods of the blind city
eat infants .intermediary
.wings over black hyacinths.
& cries of bright demolitionists
& lovely silks at her feet.
there were odours of burning wet wood ,cement
cries of cries of cries cries cries of cries of cry
as blind infants of sexed gods the