he said, I have not been built hungrily,
nor scraping, nor screaming, and angrily
not slowly, but blood blue:
arranging (succinctly and tangentially (he)
in the midst and in the fury, while (we)
going on around him, busily and brainlessly
like the arrows and the lines of,
not just one world, and many were the times
that, alone, we wept) arrangement, (chaos
and no boiling back) designing the destruction,
not traitors, not slighters, but sleight-of-handers
and magic-showing and women-of-the-dark-arts
in the daylight, outside, and, runnily nosing
our way through and through, we, constructing an end
to things (as we know them) and a beginning to ends
(as we dream them).
he said I have not been built hungrily,
but blood blue.