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A recorded reading of “Green Blindfold with Trumpets”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
A braid of green straps patrols the skull, ribbed like hosepipe, damp with the scent of cut stem— nervevine, skulling thought toward leaflight. Light softens, thick as maize meal. The eyes are kept under canopy; silence tightens to a neat black polo neck, tar-cool, holding its heat like a swallowed flame. Through the weave, red trumpets push— small hooters testing the air, petal-lips slick with sap-song. They sip from the cream day, spilling a hush of pollen and lipstick, a taste like rust and cherries on the tongue of the room. The city flickers in the plait: a Gillooly’s of thinking—off-ramps of doubt, belts looped over belts of hesitation. I hear hadedas far off, that blunt dawn grammar; even blindfolded, the world insists. Pull back— the head is a small planet, latitudes of leaf spiraling a winter hemisphere, eruption marks bright as aloes after veldfire. Each bloom leans toward the seam of light, curving sure as freeway flow into morning— as if day were a tap we forgot to close, still dripping into the root of thought.
Lyrics
Green straps patrol my head Hosepipe ribs smell of stem They pull my thought to leaf light Soft light thick as maize meal My eyes rest under canopy Silence holds like a small flame Through weave red trumpets push Small hooters test the air Petal lips shine with sap They sip the cream day Rust and cherry stain my tongue Let in the light Hold me in sight City flickers in the plait My mind turns Gilloolys Off ramps loop doubt tight Belts over belts of wait Far hadedas beat dawn grammar Even blind, the world insists Pull back, see the scale My head a small planet Leaves mark winter lines Aloes flare after veldfire Blooms lean to the seam of light Curves sure like freeway flow Let in the light Hold me in sight We left the day open It drips into thought Let in the light Hold me in sight
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