John the Revelator



No one believed

in aces or ashes

till I came alone,

with black haired

wrists and no pains

in my side.



My ribcage

is whale

bone. Heave me

from the shore,

if you can.



Spray of agony,

spume of dismay,

I have neither, none.



Cloudburst lightning

strobes the grey tide.

I breathe, and eyes

breed over me.



Suck now,

lovelies,

from the hem

of my coat,



oh yes,



heal your hands

in my salt-slicked



hair.