(lessons from sacred cows /new meaning to salt licks)

in alchemy

salt is bitterness

also wisdom

i tongue this snack:

where there is wisdom

there can be 

no

bitterness.

bite

blood

metallic

salt and metal

electric with potential

but (in me) lacking 

ordered charge.

is wisdom knowledge

plus time?

maybe context

a potential difference

i find myself a pillar

looking back

and front

on terribleness

such terribleness

it strangles water from my

eyes

i am left dry

waiting for time

resting in

crystalline fits

for the rain

and the sun

and the days

and the nights

the metal of my humors

to melt, burn 

this bitter taste

into something

less calcified,

recalcitrant,

something

palatable

on the tongue

to beings less

transcendent

(less able to stomach)

(i do not have four)

than divine bovine

who lick as if

their lives improve with it,

as if with bitterness on

their tongues

they cannot get

enough.

Blak Sanbij

I blow my nose and
The boogers are black–
Like the tiny scraps of stone
Still scratching my scalp
Each time these eager fingers brush
Through tangled hair.
They may call us stardust, but
Today I’m modern,
Prehistoric,
The ghost of volcanoes past;
Dusty, hardened vomit turned to
Bits of glitter that glimmered in
Baking sunlight,
The wind whispering it to
Shimmying, shimmering life.
I reach for my pen and
Find sand in my pocket,
Close my eyes and taste it:
Smoke,
Salt,
Sea.

Trees (burn cleaner than plastics)

I fiddled with it in my mind
Picked it up and twirled it:
A floret of broccoli,
A branching twig,
Spindly, popping with
Buds of thick, waxy leaves
Nestled at nodes,
Pursed lips to the sun.
Licentious, some
Open wider
Open up
To a warmth that
Excites them,
Breathing heavy,
Out the good.
I breathe it in,
Close my eyes.
Snap my mind's fingers.
It turns to smoke.