2021.06.22.
Flowers of Mildew
I wrote them with my nail on the plasterOn a wall of empty cracks,
In the dark, in my solitude,
Unaided by the bull lion vulture
of Luke Mark and John,
Verses for all seasons,
Verses of the pit
Of thirst for water
And of hunger for ashes,
Verses of today.
When my angel nail was blunted
I let it grow again,
But it didn’t,
Or else I knew nothing of it.
It was dark. The rain beat down far off, outside.
And my hand hurt me, like a claw
That can’t be clenched.
And I forced myself to write
With my left-hand nails.