two
gloated
crow-footed
eyes
yellow
salt-and-pepper
matted eyes
lips
sombre under
rolling like a sea
quarter the walls
within himself
readying to pour
into
mild bone and
flesh
the sun
black
stronghold
of gold
dark and still
on the beach
shapes foreign
foot the night
uncrested
old ordnance
and brass cannon
wealth
send a solid
all
you
be
shot
solitary
moonlight
peopling tombs
