Raven bell attack grated you bread of rye,
traded phosphate for manpower left of mean.
From the years of delusion distract your eye,
from the land of exposure look at me -
over janissaries' peaked caps,
over bone-mill paddles falling,
on your promises tightly kept,
on the twelve shoals of the foreland
sea is playing for us, and moon hand cue
to the quarry, and something was running hard
as you thrusted the avalanched patrol through
at the foolhardy classification yard.
Where the rails run in four directions,
freights cool down and quench the sink
you will capture me in cross section
mid the layered cake's lead and zinc.
Over, roots of dormancy, mice and shrews,
over, wind and nests and kaoliang.
In the blighted field we inhale the brew
we are spoken in, the ultimate tongue.
Like the turf-dwelling shrews and mice,
like the fuel above the burner,
hearken membraneless to my sighs,
touch me gloveless in my dark corner.
Original: front-radix.livejournal.com/119148.html
Video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbsA4pNSBHU