One Apple embodies all the symbols of consciousness coded with wounds
from simian bite, one turn on eternity's spit and embers
of the national dream smoulder in "the broil of earthly
life." Smoke curls about the augur of seamless lips,
a flag of flame waves in motionless wind, empty patio chairs
salute the irony of a mountain born of fire, stowing weapons
like an overbaked apple black to its heart.
cooking in a crucible in a part of the brain boiling below
points of view far from the wrist, as a cast of Falcons
rake past the speed of sound, swallowing the limits, transmogrifying
the very earth to a ravenous bird fouled with reddening
fence is an illusion of its own linkage, ignoring sand
blowing between its teeth, stained with ash crashing onto
the patio's carpeted floor of delicate biota and militant
bones surrounding a fresh core.