Milkweed

Filigreed. When it must be blown
apart into albumen and rebar, strands
roughed down the dawn road. Umber
discs assembled to the silk and now we are rocking
in the beginning's beginning although she has
been raped and is getting up again
and the limbless furrows of returning from a long journey
he beheld the weightless white snakes which can be
repeated until the hem of a beast the radio
of a hand appears to ask if she is assembled
to the riddle or to the farmhands
he gave a quart of getting up again,
reticulate, and the world was one
sentence long, repeating, so the last chain
could sing while it murdered the first.

Copyright © 2006 Susan Maxwell All rights reserved
from Beloit Poetry Journal
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission