Hair Tongue:

Black Tongue; Fur Tongue

I poke my animal profile from the sudden darkness of the river. The tree-locks stare. The hallow bones howl. In the magnetite skyscape, the vestigial eye socket dreams crystalline, prismatic. The tapping of hooves—The Coming of Legs. The Bird Lady hovers out the altocumulus and the elk chimes are dredging. We move into the blood rain, the blood moon fabric, the animal box, a bizarre abduction, the abdominal mass, zone of rock, flowage zone, zone of fracture, claw of earthworm, earth of bird-mass, meat, space and moan.


Jeff Tatay

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