Instruction to the Horned Eater and Watcher  ----------  Courage 

 instructions are given and forgiven and forgotten

ice breaks                the window  is still and rampant 

fertile

above Scorpio                    an eclipse tastes hot ash

                                              abundance breaks

                                                  above the waterline

                                                     a  struggle for eminent domain

 thought and 

feeling siphoned through structure

                                                           positron idyll

                                                               quasi-horse faces droop

                                                                     I am forgiven and forgiven

                                                                           up to the margins where sun swoops to fate

                                                                                 my

                                                                cat body

                                                     fallow

                                          musical

                               without support in a world where time is meaningless

                     without words to

           make holy or spectral

     an exact position of the sun, an object above

our lifting ---shifting weight up

to the sky

without a mulitiplication of answers

that's the voice of the angel

trumpeting on down

  a guitar boom tripe sound

        the rest of the blues

               played out for us by sight

                        ears tuning to crossroads

                          on the dirt road palace

                               road to straight-up whiskey town

                                      bending over from the weight

                                            magnetic and purple

                                                hoarse voices in the dark

                                                      wet moans in silence

                                                          blowing through

                                                                 the ghost

                                                                 the hand

                                                                 the tree

                                                                 the coming

                                                                 the tracing

                                                                 the oral fixation

                                                                 gun

                                                                 gun

                                                                 gun

                                                                 gun

                                                                 gun

egun gun gun eggun egboni boni boon bune egun boni    ignoble ghonboni

                                                boom                          a trapeze assumes

                                                                          flexibility and flight               claustrophobic in the night

                                                                  empty sound swinging round        slipping off the wire walker

                                                      slip                      slip                                 slip slip

entropy

from the long drop

 vanishes

when identified            a dislocation of aura and temperature                   to spin and gyrate over bone trombones            bone yards of fat sleek wet bones       rising to

                                                    vehicles        filled with heavenly            blue              faces       drifting           the silent drift       

                                          venting silence                    as repetitive and heavy  machines pound        at

                                                                                                             flesh                             bar light rages and  drinks fly rapid

                                                                                                                                         over the tightening darkness

                                                                                                                                                            outside

                                                                                                                                 stone fists and drums exchange voices

                                                                                                                 so -- travel on the dirt road out to the dark black

                                                                                                                  ringed with white light

                                                                                                                  keep traveling into the stolen night    

                                                                                                                  quiet in the car                      bobcat faces are out there

                                                                                                                                                     a snake chews the hides

                                                                                                                                         the smaller visionary elements keep themselves cloaked in red deer masks

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         searching for the white and tiny forces bound up in a roving voice

                                                                                                                        listening to the distinct smoke     the hoods           the long beaked singers

                                                                                                             everywhere we look we can hear 

                                                                                                                        their hard voices

                                                                                                 and even the rocks are singing now

                                                                                        into  the filling water        

                                   Now,  limp to avoid detection      up to the bright blinking signs              the rotating scapular             

                                                 where the moon is scratching her face

                                                  in the trapezoid kidney box

                                                  what was once only imagined is now obsolete

                                                  and what cannot be described is now without boundaries

                                                  the old man  turning into a wild

                                                   breaking voice              sqawking out of a summer box 

                                                 * napi -- with a driver's license and a switchblade in his headdress         straight up eagle feathers 

                                                  dog society warrior                   limber and silent as a knife slipping under the skin

                                                  on fire howling                  at the eyes two adjusted            through smoke and raw night meat

                                       fire warrior            the tight enveloping flames are silencing your dread and opening up your courage

go and leap in and eat            ----                         don't let them make you know any less than the entire          shimmering       the colllision of numbers and wireless tongues

the escalation 

a testimony of glands and stars 

                  ---count them all -

                                                                         count them all                      count them now                       keep track and count and know and

                                                                         watch again ---       

Max Wolf Valerio

May 5 - 2004 - 12:44 am - First Draft --- * "Napi"  is Old Man in Blackfoot a trickster --