TO THE WHITE BONE

Let each body become a dancer and each mind become a bird.
Friedrich Nietzsche 'Morgenröthe'


1.

Here,
In the depths of this winter
Oblivion is no obvious path
But it is the path you shall follow
Skinned
Disembowelled
To the white bone.

These past few days
Crystalline
Empty
Are present within me yet
Wandering through snow covered cemeteries
Gathering death
And itinerant wings
My brain smouldering
From the powder burns of a reality
shot straight through.

With all this space, this silence, the starvation of it all
Sometimes it’s hard to believe
When they tell me
this is a city of people.


2.

Early one morning
Naked
Across a carpet of ice
I dance in the sunlight
Of the Russian cemetery -