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 ...
By Cynthia Hasz
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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