Dove Makes a Home Visit

Dove, glid
over feathers

“crow, you,    mess
made a mess
no you’ll make things worse
don’t speak

eat your worms
I’ll    later, with the nurse
she wasn’t happy. last time

crow what will we do with you
kill you
its okay     look at me
aaaah
don’t pick your scabs
aaaaah

back soon
back soon      i know
i know
bye”

then with a sigh, she heads next door
where a god lies sleeping
in a pool of his own dried vomit

Dove’s Mission Creep

Dove sat
Stunned at what had happened
god sat next to her

I still don’t quite know what happened, said god
Dove stared, and all god saw was his own face
this made him glad.

But then he saw crow, he began to cry
Dove hopped on his shoulder, drinking

The tears made Dove grow terrible
She slipped out into the heavens
With a syringe and a cotton swab

Dove Builds a City in the City

A winter wind gusted
Dove heard it, rang through the archway

Her dark veins pulsed in the frost
Til the blood boiled over hope

Cracking the paving glade
Her crusting eye fixing on the mist
the dirt, the sand, beneath the skinnings

Crystals poured from her lungs
Piling growing strata of symbol
searing martyrs to the brickwork
Resolving, concrete sinnings
Shimmer towers, seeding.

Dove heard all this racket crash and scream
Extinctions kept her good company, and she knew it

A winter wind blew
Dove heard it, and said
A winter wind taught us to dream