cut up, plus

Jesus wept--women naturally deceive, weep, and spin. This is a weeping song, a song for weeping. Bend your branches down along the ground and cover... Me, I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river is a strong brown god. Prone. Here Lies One Whose Name was Writ in Water. Wit in water. Wade in the water. Wide, woe in the water. Rivers are roads which move, woes which move. Deep calls to deep. Willow, weep for me. And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. Owned. Known. But when it comes to slaughter, you will do your work on water, daughter. Water is life’s matter and matrix, mother and medium. There is no life without water. Nor any drop to drink. Women naturally deceive, weep, and spin that the small rain down can rain. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs: women naturally deceive, weep, and spin. I am haunted by waters. The spiders beneath.