CAN’T GET OUT OF THIS SKIN

Let there be Thy will, oh God!

Let there be Thy Will

in all the nails and toes,

in the wind this skin is made of.

Let there be Thy Will, God!

Let there be thine, God, all

that was touched by and where poured in

the black voice of early thundering.

Thine is each loose string

thrown toward the chuckling world.

Let it be Thy skin, God,

this body made of embroidered rings.

This body is a blade, God,

driven long ago into the earth’s skin.

May this body be a core and a blade.

This long laughter is that storm of yours, God,

with a skin like a cartilage,

over the bone and the vein of the snowy blade.

Let this bone be Thine, o God!

Let it be Thine, God,

the blade that gazes at the tender core.

This is Thy will, God.

Let this husky procreation

be Thy horn in the wind, and a pillar.

Let it be whatever, just let it out, God.