Lachrymae Christi

Whitely, while benzine Rinsings from the moon Dissolve all but the windows of the mills (Inside the sure machinery Is still And curdled only where a sill Sluices its one unyielding smile)

Immaculate venom binds The fox’s teeth, and swart Thorns freshen on the year’s First blood. From flanks unfended, Twanged red perfidies of spring Are trillion on the hill.

And the nights opening Chant pyramids,-- Anoint with innocence,--recall To music and retrieve what perjuries Had galvanized the eyes.

While chime Beneath and all around Distilling clemencies,--worms’ Inaudible whistle, tunneling Not penitence But song, as these Perpetual fountains, vines,--

Thy Nazarene and tinder eyes.

(Let sphinxes from the ripe Borage of death have cleared my tongue Once and again; vermin and rod No longer bind. Some sentient cloud Of tears flocks through the tendoned loam: Betrayed stones slowly speak.)

Names peeling from Thine eyes And their undimming lattices of flame, Spell out in palm and pain Compulsion of the year, O Nazarene.

Lean long from sable, slender boughs, Unstanched and luminous. And as the nights Strike from Thee perfect spheres, Lift up in lilac-emerald breath the grail Of earth again--

Thy face From charred and riven stakes, O Dionysus, Thy Unmangled target smile.