Disabled landscape

A poem by John Balance from the obscure book about the Virgin Prunes from the mid-late 1980s titled VIRGIN PRUNES Faculties of a Broken Heart by Rolf Vasellari.

“Disabled Landscape”

From the spires of an old grey tree
Swings a burial at sea
Her white limbs spilling
Out chains of flowers,golden
Heavy with bees
These signs, these houses
are the songs, are the symptoms
of a beautifull sickness
Poured from a vessel, dislodged
From the soils of her stomach
The ravens of dispersion
Pull covers over
The landslides and earthquakes
that hide in her hair
Silences, swimming
Under the dolphins
Rise through her waters, like cold stars.
In mourning.
White marble bones in a cellar washed over by snowdrifts.
The seaspraysteals whispers
Stolen from travellers, referring to secret enemies
One drop shall intoxicate!
The birds circling over
Arrange the cadaver into landscapes disabled, then
Smother them with roses.

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