TIM VAN DYKE


                                     



NO ONE GOD




No one god may trample the earth— let them— nor crush the

throats of the assailed— nor assault the keening— those that are

weightless— us little white kids are always singing— always

invading— always reaching into a space around dead mouths—

around the growth and brush— around the dead animals sketched

sparsely onto teeth— glow and frighten like shadows beneath the

moon— invading— comes a clearing— unmasks the foliage

covering the body of my assassin— I do not let her body sink— I

leave it by the pool— over there— the clean line— the Latifundia

quietly eating the entrails of its workers— they whimper at night

as their bodies disappear— as their bodies space each thought

against a thought of suicide— the way it gathers force— like

lust— moon's static bristling with dew— a sense of the moon

behind the snow— caught up in flickering snatches of trash—






TYPO 34