The Ankh, The Knot of Isis

Did you know that the ankh is just the timid

knot of Isis just the whim of a cartographer

mapping banks laid out like sweet

skin in sun?

It says, the river is a fat snake:

it moves like a snake,

and there is its bank,

and there its other bank,

that's what I heard anyway.

I don't write poems about lovers,

I write poems about natural phenomena.

Thus:

there was a brief waterfall, a

glorious flood -untouchable-

outside of law--

and a sapping drought

and a river mouth closing,

gently golden,

--I'm just a human being--

a river mouth closing, and silence

(isn't silence so eery,

we are all small animals

in its fist, its dark fist--)