Prayer for the lost and holy

Dear God save my love, save the trees of
my love save his face
abated w/ leaves & folliage
& trees that trasport all of his feelings
of love, regret - transported
on a burning carriage - a burning sky
looking at the grounds, the ducks, the majesty
they make of love on the shore

Two boats! Tow boats! breaking
on the rocks of my love.
Save my love from thoughts of fate on these rocks.

The rocks are wheels, Lord.
The rocks are surrogate.

Green trees that shake in July,
the whole life of July
life in which
what happens, Lord? falling

kin to water.
kin to stone.

dear God, dear God

**


God, note my prayer.
I have put this in. I have presented a
boat on the shore in green
and violent grace, the leaves and the ashes
about. Save me my love
from the raining happening.

It's an incomplete prayer.
A prayer for time.
I have a horse here.
I am riding way out with him
and setting him at the trees.
My love is moving through
a prayer time, a motion.

A prayer for time to be done.
A prayer up us
to be grown and stiff and inconsolable.

To be in a dark room
with a square light, taking
us up to the face of the Lord,
the rows up to, up to at us,
this face stitched with light, buff light,
smooth face.

Lord let time take away its stone
that my heart is set. That stone in your
hands that is almost nothing,
that is so small and tidy in your hands.

Dear God let me pray out.
What in your white hands?
what is light to me, oh God
lay him on top of his thoughts/
the storm and storm, the hand of God

Of coarse
and inconsistent
sonnets, of sonnets
of sleep on the bay

Lord let him be of the bay,
yea that he go down
and eat the bay like soup,
the cormorants and vulcher eggs,
every word in the mouth
of God, the bay of God

Every word on the stoop
of forgiveness,
God that he has a dog
and God dog forge into the bay,
into soft land and soft water
rock and mud

the dog on the brink of eating catfish,
eating the flowers the flowers that dot
the banks, eating the horsehair
and eating butter, eating the fruit
that has been set out by god
to eat
to eat
to be done

Lord let him make tunnels
inside books, inside the brace
of books, inside
the history of writing
everything down.

Lord he is sure to be
a piss ant -
how tremulous he
how portraiture

To be an axe.
Be in the sleeve of language.
How himself of night.

AND WHEN HE COMES DOWN
AND WHEN HE COMES DOWN

The parlor is filled
with bats - they are swell.
They are bums.
They are a bridge of friends.
They are a glassy bridge.
They sway and break,
we duck and swoon
they sway and delve
we swell and swell
we cover them
we will see

When it is over -
When it is all either marked out
or put in -

The sound of you Lord in my knees,
in my sleep on my knees,
the long and dizzy spots on my knees
pink and blue and beautiful
Is it this unbearable
at the center of time?

What is the center of time,
the middle of earth
the center of red wood
in the center of space?

Lord let
me lie on
the floor
of my
suffering
the suffering
that is my
carpet
of time
that is
made up
in the carpet
the dust
of suffering
everything
everything

Am I now 26 now 27 or 28 or 29?
Are the bugs only this beginning of time?

This time I am on my knees asking of you
the scope of my love, what I am to do,
when my mother and father will die

On my knees with the bugs -
in the dark and purple fur,
the ringing of the lamb
walks on my heart
he has this bell

I am bound to lie
I am bound to be embarrassed alone
of this floor, in the evening of everything
I ask that you put him where
he should be.

Put him in the hair of the Lord.
Thread of langauge, hair of the Lord. We so sing
in the hair of the Lord. He brings it out of the bay,
mud and grass hair of the Lord, the bees in the wood
and the hair of the Lord Hair of the salt and mud, the broken bottles
the tasks of hair, the cuts, the plush push of night onward! the hair
of the Lord, the house of hair
at night singing ah you, ah you

I WILL PUT IT UPON
THE WALL

I WILL MAKE A PLATE
TO PUT IT ON

The hair of the Lord is at dusk, it is rained
on anceint hair of the Lord, it is stacked and flanked,
a full head - clouds
of white and blue and green,
the hair on his chest and legs, the hair on his arms and back,
the hair on his face, most righteous face of the hair of the Lord.

We put ourselves out of the hair
in order
in the beginning
in line

righteous hair
Engine

Dear God

I am a duck
I am a raccoon
I am heaps of mud on the floor
I am trying not to get in
I am an asking bird
in the dark garage
I lie on the bridge of early regret
of every regret
and cough
I push into the light of the morning,
light that would show up.

Will my father die?
Will it be inside this?
& what with?
what with?