little anthropoescapism
infinite water
**

IN THE DUST OF THIS LIFE

Pale sieves a tired
Ax in the tree’s bosom.
In the foliage’s broom there is
Seed-blood-silk. Bites
in the lovenest of the building.
Sweetly fogs in its ice-bath
the Ibis’s blood. Masses
in the dust of this life.

-unica, anagrammatic (in german)
trans by bellmer
*
"language under language"
-Saussure
**

DANS L’ATTELAGE D’UN AUTRE AGE
(Line from a poem by Henri Michaux)

Eyes, days, door, the old country.
Eagle eyes, a thousand days old.

-unica