Three Tens
FIRST TEN One Out of what is before a spot on the linen fabric. Pregnant. Urging all others away. Two As if and as if. What stands in blank spaces. Not what is praised here. An old man drunk with forgiveness and not what is praised here. Three King or not king. To watch her child as she bites forgotten flesh. Under a false hood fabulous poisons prepared from the stone. Four The formulae discovered. These King what come thereafter. Five Red but it does not matter. Tearing apart the body of the lion. The lion is larger than the whole forest altogether. To whom this devastation. To whom this signaling of vibrant pain. Six Sweet-heart of everything that looks to him. A liar. The brother of thieves. Catching his long sweet hair in the teeth of the Kingdom. Seven “Fuck me” but she is not smiling. Eight A thief. He hugs the lamplight. Blind to all else besides. Nine Denim? The dung not washed out. Struck by moonlight. Ten Multifarious hair on the large stone. SECOND TEN One Dust to dust. A mound shining bright particles. First thought of the particles not the spaces between. Two King so-and-so rules absolutely. His bearded body. His thundering drums. Three As absolute blindness. Furious sibyls toss granite rings from their eyes. Four The box in which the wrong stone is put upon it corrections. Each correction stands for another. Every other conceals the stone. Five She said knives gauging out tar from the hill which delivers whomever his death. Six The heart replaces the King. When all fall in this golden object resplending. Seven What you love matters. The green girl luring the blue boy back to the stone. Eight Counted and counted. Recounted. Counted and counted. Discounted. The numbers warped once. The dislocations establish the stations. The stations dislocate the stone. Nine Sweet water. It is a personal matter. Her motherly hands of cold water move down my spine. Ten Stand here. Open it and stand here. THIRD TEN (Occult Lines) One Once white it no longer matters what the wise men believe. Two A cold bat flies through brain chambers. Three Four Five Six Hot air as it thunders now. As it establishes violent proportions. As it gathers in a wide open field multitudinous factors and accomplishes One. Seven Soft cures occur. The mechanisms have not yet enraptured the real gods. Have not accomplished their poisons. In habits of consciousness that pour forth like doves in the casual morning of bells rung to call her. Eight Nine I evince you. I snake you. I control spires. Ten His memory thickens. His shadows waken. Memory’s red city is a prop. Though you are rich and old. Though you keep excellent white dogs. You are also of the memory.