Poems from Mercurial Raven

In my youth I was a witch Upon my rib a scar And in my hands I held a bird A precious azure star   If only to fly I could have known grace...
Oh you fool, you pretty thing, Your lips to the foot of a blind man A fool himself, but enthroned Upon his tower of imperfection Yet still...
Video:
Red desert. A star below the horizon. The Om is a choir of cicadas.   This voice is a gathering call: a cry of ape, of wolf, of bird, of a...