The Life of Animals

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For you the smear of raw white fat across the face
Pig’s fat frothed like cream black bristled I go unshaved
Into the lunatic asylum where your father and the five
Black hogs of the resurrection carve crosses in the walls

For the black hogs of the resurrection I abstain
From the purloined promise the sawed log
Of your armada planted in the hills past Petersburg at the end of
     the line
A thousand trees for a thousand ships that never sailed from
     Peter’s mind

Which calm insists on red weather the tiny strawberries
You insist on the bounty of wild pigs their crepuscular innocence
And ride them woolly and perverse singing at the top of your lungs
Through the orchards the sycophantic campuses the cool rain

The pigs stormed your wedding seeking everywhere for Joseph
Vissarianovich and found him smitten beneath the wedding gown
Heartworm gorging on your cuntshearts promises
His linoleum veil scrawled with words as raw as rain

You bandy dandy twisting trout smooth innocent you
Come back from your amusement park your winter bumper car
Gleaming with lighting the air your carnal radiation
The moths die in your hands the nuclear ants in their black carapaces

Crawling into the nostrils of winter’s frozen horse
The llamas bleating in the witches’ market skinned hares frantic
With hooks through their jaws the llamas dried into brittle
     moldy statuettes
The witches spinning soapstone dreidels Satan four-faced
     Janus doubled

Inscrutable smile the god of beginnings fly-god sideways god of gates
Bridges cities on the road ground in the road cities ground out to
     a name
Mud-god lord of pigs a troll eating flies and shitting in nectar
Your flute your gigue your medieval soldier lost in an innocent
     brown hat

The village of abandoned suitcases the village of shoes the village
Where the cobblers hang their hats on nails the village of pollen
The village of white flowers the village of carts the village of violins
The village where Oleg drinks the last drop the village of last drops

The life of animals begs from the end of the night
From the watery dawn frozen Poland Poland always dawn and frozen
Joseph Wissaranowizc goes out breath steaming with his ax
His boot steps in the snow the frozen ruts in black mud leading to
     the sty