"Eva Trifles in Treif to Free Adan in Intervals" ~ 2015.11.19

Blood flows like vinegar, as oil and wine
limns vines in a tapestry, hung on ropes
in a room, pitting with edema, bruised
purple with blunt force trauma, as I wind

grandfather, clockwork spouse, with a key
roundabout, counter-clockwise, Inca pipes
intuit intonations ancient, praised
prophecy, the dead will arise again.

Pretend not to notice the orange koi
inspires asthmatic breathing in the dead,
guaranteed to rouse ancient man awake,

rise from eternal slumber, her anguish
inhabits archaic song, a triad
brittle as broken plaster, chords bespoke.