Sample poem from "Brushfires," my latest book:
Wild Gods
The bellowing of the ox
chant of the dedicants
shuffling round the fire
two by two, under the ash poles
like follows like,
as above, so below
thus reads the Book
but the stars
those damnable leering stars
and the tossing of trees
across the vale
the wail, low at first
growing louder, higher
these don't meet expectations
the worshipers falter
turn away from the sacrifice
face into the gale
What wild god comes now?
The end
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