Five Spirits: Gawain's Pentangle

I. In

The brevity of the tree is the root
Where God made and the deep faced;
Where division from itself imploded,
And ex nihilo means something,
Or does it?

II. The

The circus of event is tangible, wobbly.
The firmament for fancy, and heaven’s
Sake—I’ll drink to that!
Let the things develop into more things,
And man create taxonomy.

III. Beginning

One by one they marched until disobedience,
Wrought with a rather painful knowing, conjugated
Into Edenic simulacra, repeat?
Yes, into the image;
They tilled and became mortal and boring.

IV. Was

Who was Enoch’s knocking?
At least I knew my Eve, my leafy slut.
The shame that darkened my hammish hue;
Of giants I shall tame with pen and ink;
Perhaps even let my semen spill.

V. …

In genesis I finished in apocalypse;
When can I get that promised rest?
Where can I look for the mist to spring up,
Out, out and into? Ha! Ha!
The worms are tickling.