Will Baker

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Writing

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Egg cum eggs

O brood cry summit summit
caw the buzzards on high
do with your wings such rapturous things
bate bate bate or die

in your nest find instruments
gifted you by your mother cosigned by her lover
fumble them in your feathers
paint parade incise wash practice practice practice

dive no tumble sailors do
planks are gangplanks are buoys
woven twigs a mess will bind your breast
in plummet you gasp no swallow

shatter skeleton deaf yourself in it
half only half embraced
weep history weep happening weep prodigy
love of the earth love

O brood cry summit summit
so train your ruptured eyes
crowns on the mountain gulp magma fountain
bate bate bate or die

strain mud from yourself strain mud from your health
pluck your bloody plumes
sweet sweet fantasy progeny
the climb from hell no climb to swell

use now your arms naked
up naked slopes of naked brothers
who heavy yawn
under you heavy young

breathe no choke prisoners do
sad old cells themselves
truer men never were than those on whom you trod
in ascent you sprint no stumble

what trounce what hot feet
low mire no mire for you
dopey beak smile suck your milky meal
love of the earth love

holy holy hatchlings no hatchling 

you king fuck out new power

— 2010