I know that I hung in a windy yew tree
nine long nights,
head like a giant harvest moon
stuffed with a fragrant but runny cheese
and slowing like a unwound clock; then
an apparition appeared to me, dragging
nine long limbs,
lungs full of furious and fecund words
of beauty and terror
and in all-out pissed and chambered tenor it then did
hurl nine insults of indexed vex
and cross-referenced vile
to my own regrets and misspent hours
and mistreated family
and I mistook nine settling birds for my own reprieve