Turbula
Volume III, Issue II Summer 2004

 
 

womb of the covenant


Cindy Hasz is a not a person but rather, a pseudonym for an unusual state of mind, a creative tension balancing ... male, female polarities; fluids of various viscosities; vapors of unspecific gravities; humors of quickly evaporating profundities and the like. You know, one of them catseye marbles, a real cowgirl with the blues, and not really concerned with being published ... anymore ...


Water covered nearly everything in the valley below
                                   and continued rising
                     But no one on the island mountain seemed concerned
I looked south over new formed sea
Thin slices of land left       just paleolithic pink                finger tips
   Not enough to live on

We are yet in a                 dry place
  Where the ocean is air   and   breathing   is    tidal
And               instead of Cetaceans
  Feathered urchins sing in the enclosure         primarily as distraction
                              From the hopelessness of our
                                           position

                                         Suspended

Between heaven and blue green algae       in a prickly pocket
Of gaseous surfactant  one                  mile                       thyck
         The signature of the race?
                                   The furious copulation
                                     continual migration
  Of those              on the                             outside of themselves

                                    Yoni's dark promise
                                   indigenous landbridge

                    Mediatrix of all graces she is above all things
                                         Temporary

                                  Yak flesh redemption
We pantomime the flood in blood and semen
                                           The great escape

Swim or die

 
 



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