I got to build a wall first

before I put in a window.

For I’d be very sorry

if I didn’t have a wall for you to come through.


In the beginning

there was a wall before the light

before the words.

The moment of tearing

the air gets off the sound

the light is shut

and sweet, salty, hot and cold

all become ‘it hurts’.


Swaying walls meet,

stare, listen to, smell, lick and rub

each other’s shadows.

God projected on a solid screen

who built the walls in his image

saw it was good.

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