Penetrate this thicket of dismemberment and chaos
shine one stuttering lamp into utter darkness
stumble into the deepest forest of me
Wilderness of uranium tailings
Toxic dumping ground
I go spelunking down
A pick axe or a dental pick?

it’s him
diggin’ in
on his high horse
The whinny echoes off ribbed canyon walls
like teeth in a locked-down jaw
I ring in the slam of a barred door

Tap tap tap
I go, someone goes
down into the mine
It’s all mine
And when the timbers, rotten, give up all pretense of support
‘Why the hell should I keep supporting you? You gotta work for it!’
It. Me. Claim it: mine

A mining claim, I rush into the gap before it’s too late
Rush into the collapsing, dust in my mouth
Michaelangelo arms and legs strong and set
a starfish holding back the settling inevitability
want a soft settle like a good dog would
want a happy ending like a tail wag
want a welcome home, crepe paper banners
a surprise party with everyone there
all the personas in silly tinsel hats
their smiles brightening the gloom
a fire circle in the room

The walls fall but still there’s space
Spurs just wants space
shreds bones to lace
‘Spaciousness! Spaciousness! Open up and let me in!’
Inside the density
I wanna carbonate, drill through, float boats,

And so
augmented with ointment
strapped together and armed with anti-inflammatory garbage fill
I chant armies
I shift move
I burrow in through this mouth that never shuts up
through these fingers that don’t stop writing
through this heart that leaps open at your arrival
through doors that are pores
I pour myself as batter in
thick like that
ooze down through every crack of my own and only skeleton
snake through the snapping girders
bring the rescue of sapling attention and muscled awareness
lugging my supplies cos I plan to camp here
learn to inhabit this wilderness of innards
sprout willingness for this body to divulge her secrets

I un-evict myself
I can contain myself
I drip drip drip into this container
pure holy essence and compassion
all the powers that I sent out
in such flocks of black crows
I call them, cawing, home.

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