ANCIENT TEXTS & RITUALS
CRAIG
CZURY
At
night sneak around to the tallest tree in the neighborhood
hang curtains on the hole for a
door
nothing happens until it breaks
It seamed like picker bushes
wrapped around me
they
were pulling me in then I heard that noise again
it
had dead birds and a dead cat in it
there
was a sewing machine and bullet holes in the rusty car doors
the
coal was hard on my shoes and newspapers from 1937 only worse
something
was holding me back but the door was open
there
were no steps to get down there only a broken window against the wall
we
were sending messages over the pipe but I couldn’t get through
I
was soaked and my shirt got ripped
it
was near the projects there were chalk drawings
and
what looked to be a ribcage
#00119
write
a poem on the back of a kite
fly
it as high as you can
ask
a passerby to hold the string
just
a minute
you
have to go to the bathroom
you’ll
be right back
never
come back
#82020
between the space of being here but
not really here
write a poem
take off your clothes and dive in
without holding your breath
#05466
write
a poem
across
your lover’s belly with your tongue
record
this poem on your answering machine
#37429
at night wander around your
backyard
with your eyes closed
randomly reaching for and kissing
the dark air
the words of your next poem
will spell themselves on a oui-ja
board
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