Wednesday, August 01, 2007


Qana by James Scully


where the wedding was
where water turned to wine
where the best was saved
for last

shsh they're trying to sleep
in the dark wood
of dreamless dreaming--
coughing farting snoring sighing
turning over

where the wedding was
the rolling storm
that is not a storm
flies over

it doesn't feel much
to drop the bomb--
a slight bump
under the wing

the thing is done--

their deaths
like little yapping dogs
rush out
into the nerve-endings of the universe

the bodies stay put,
impossibly still

so it was said in school
Macbeth doth murder sleep--
with so much life to kill
there's no room for sleep

in Qana
where the wedding was
those who sleep, die

the future of sleep
is buried alive

in Qana where the wedding was
the murdered in their sleep
wake just long enough to die
to become the woods
where the wedding was...

they are on the move now,
which is impossible

these impossible dead
growing out of their deaths
into an army of trees

by James Scully

(with thanks to Richard Peabody)

i really love it. i'm still digesting it, but it's becoming clearer.
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