Untitled
0316.2013
A lesser god for the stars and vines. The soon myth heavily bound to the bent way as it falls into the wounded wild’s breasts. Half hearted, the suspended love and arrangement with progress instead, until the forest is wet and full with brown bodies laid in nature’s undue exhaust, until we children are strung out on a star, waiting for the night’s hearse to bite into our thrill with its teeth over and over, forever without end, amen.
A lesser God is turning under the heat and black spot of the sun. Then us, too small to trouble the sun with fire that breathes and dies before our eyes - even as we turn over her daughter and rape her all across the land in the sun’s shadow that fans out like a phantom over and over, forever without end, amen.
A Lesser God and the child of a Lesser God am I, walking with two sinistral feet because I am woman and the devil as such. The world is left to survive on my sin and I’m left to stand upon a life, who is by the way a woman of the constellations. Soon the constellation’s womb fall’s upon its axis - that is the deer dying, doomed Daphne, man’s rational impotence.
Low and Behold! Watch the western white wind arrive upon a body of steel; a lesser God leads the way, green and made from the casualty of an Oak, over and over, forever without end, amen.
Marni De Ambershay