‘zona

                                                                                                             fasciculata

                                                                                                                  (the little bundled

                                                                                                                   belt, run amok)’

                        you go blind in the flood

                        raving like the waves

                        bull-headed and savage

                        to yourself and all

                        the earth

                        at once

                                           a cavity

                        opening inward without bottom

                        for dark

                        midswim you crawl in:

                        the living shear