When black curtains mat the floor,
Coiling loosely across bedside table legs,
Nine of us rise, eyes unaware
To convene at once in the darkened wood.
And madcap's laugh
With stumbling circles, the drehleier squeals,
The squiffer bleats, the tampura hums its sigh,
While forgetful limbs quiver awake
Hairs standing to greet the electric air.
Like savage insects
Still wet with the grease of dreams,
Our bodies twist open, glittering like heavy stars
With hand upon hand upon hand upon hips
As blessings leak under our sibilant lips.
With blackened teeth
On its crutches the sun rises,
Snuffing out the last of our spirit,
Thus we drag ourselves dreaming to the seat of the hearth
Leaving only circles in the upturned earth.