I
a million heads on a million lathes
in horizon stretched factories
murmuring with unswollen light
II
the ghost of a cicada
has built a temple in his ear
in chorus with the murdered air
in an acoustic like an upturned boat
wooden lips pulled over his wet brain
III
maybe this is what light sounds like before it collapses
a slice taken off the moon in his eye
an inch taken off the hem of previous devotions
an echo can be unbuttoned
let fall from the hips of a scream
a new sound unaccounted for in an old language
IV
a line is being drawn on a high monotone wall
a nanosiren is powered with light from small glass bones
it makes the sound of a hollow full stop speeding across taut skin
this device ensures the pitch of a shadow will remain unrecorded
V
silence is taken from silence
and exploded as silence
inside the silence
this is the sound he hears
the sound he listens to
because listening is not possible
in this machine
the prayers are washed off the plates
i never would've believed that silence could drown
but the evidence is there
why do thoughts always die with their eyes open
their light dissolved as salt in tepid water
this is the savage equation
crushed beneath the weight of its equals sign
there is impossibility in this sentence
and now it has been removed
i was going to show you my collection of mouths
but you spoke too soon
look for the word that lies in belief
but do not disturb its meaning
you cannot look over your shoulder
and expect that your shadow will know who you are
have you ever broken bread
as if it were someone's life
have you ever told the morning sun to stand in the corner
and face the wall
you can turn yourself into a burning match
by simply striking your head against this surface
you are witnessing the separation of the senses
and how they all seek custody of your mind
have you ever looked at the figure in the landscape
and seen it as a number instead of flesh
have you ever cored a full stop as if it were an apple
to create the only number that can't count on itself