My Holy Land. Space
Says “I wanted to be as real
As the Devil King, pineal,
The opening of the syllable.
But what I see is the Christ
Who must die to become nameless.”
The message is delivered from the land of opposites.
He flies a Confederate flag across his cool-water chest
Like a slowly sinking kite with the bones of a bird.
A tree fort built with blue wood speaks of putting out
The fire in the messenger’s animal eyes by becoming
The fragile, winged creature in the treetop.
The kite is caught in the branches. The sun animates her skeleton.
