Mountains 2009 Face masked to the judges, in kind I kept the feathers and later turned them to the wind. All in and expecting happy daggers, the joy mounts and it seems fit to go into the mountains famed for the dwelling of nobles and conquerors, shadows in the night and so forth, the peaks sing down to me. A universe grown in my throat and I speak calmly to others, holding back black matters. Mars shoots arrows to stop your breath, in motion kicking and screaming, Earth still spinning atop your shoulders, joints aflame, charted like myths by the blind, chirp of insufferables, the hollow Earth has vacancy and I dig.