POETRY > Hybridity
Hybridity
Tiny Worlds - No. 6 in “Trees with Eyes”
A hybrid being was born of a bright, quick sound, a deep still fog and a rush of stars. Some say the sources were a single entity…
emboldened
with the pursuit of truth within the devastation of pleasure
the pressure of stationary vastness
the devalued preciousness of my fur
whatever my animal form
A half-orb of noodles in a hot and sulky soup wriggling into sound
I am a dragon with the body of a tree and the devil will lend me their tongue until midday
I am filled with the life of plenty and I turn my face to the wind and weep
I am the grit in the flesh of the fruit that fell from a stone tree
I am a tongue with the body of a midday and the dragon tree will lend me her devil
I am lifed with the wife of the wind and I turn my weep to the plenty and wait
Well I am
the stone in the fruit of the grit that fell from a flesh tree
Well I am
the fruit weep of devil and the tiger in the wind
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