Vol. 59 No. 2 1992 - page 273

Open My Lips
Open my lips
so that the words
come out
full and clear
as tears
circled by
Your breath.
So that in the field
of your breathing
they echo violetly.
And enter the souls
of the beaten
like a hope
in You.
The Grapes of Generation
Break
the first grapes
in your mouth
so that your glands
sting from their juice.
Soak your pupils
in a solution
of vine
till the sky's blue
seeps into your eyes.