Annah Browning
In the Beginning
***
In the beginning there was
a request. A downward
pointed finger in sand. The light
was not needed,
and thus began the inconsistent
world. The serpent saw
this, and he knew. He, too,
was a finger. He pulled
a curve with his body, and ran.
Beckoned ever since.
The continuing spiral.
The trigger-head.
God pulled a trigger
and said, I saw
something. It was obvious
and odd. It was
light hopping away from
a tree. What glistens,
he said. What hurts.
Annunciation
***
Little creeks come in.
They are wiping my lips.
Here, canary, they say to me.
Talk to us the talk
-talk. Opening my mouth,
a fingerlet threads in.
Who talk-talk. Who ran away
the king. I bring a fist
up and drop. The king ran
away me. The king.
A reddening cloud appears.
On the nails of my hand,
I see it. It holds over. It moves
my body off of me.
It moves as I move me.
God mates me, and I
mate back.
Demon
***
God rest me, I said,
but something else
came. Rodent-like in fur,
bearing up against
me. The bones of its spine
all cracked. Some
things exist in their
perfection, it said,
and put its teeth into
my thigh. I look
at the wound and see
a kind of brightness,
a leeching off of light.
The air felt difficult
to move in. There was a tree,
but I wasn’t hanging myself.
Invocation
***
The antlers are massive.
They are sitting outside
in the rain. I am outside, too.
I put my head down
next to them. Be, be,
I say. Be, be.
---
Nothing attaches. Nothing
is strong enough.
Then, if we are clever.
Then, if we are wily.
The whole house falls down
clear of itself.
To be destroyed. To be free
of the Maker.
Entry
***
I go through all the trees,
one by one. I am
looking for the noose
that waits for me.
I have to talk with it.
I have to tell it
some particulars. How
many stars in the lasso,
I say, and touch the loose
braid how many charms
on the bracelet, I am shaking,
pull my hair around
my neck and say, look,
we are sisters now,
you and I noose, looking
just the same.
Black medallion. Circle
round a clouded face—
---
Look, I am rendered
like my punishment.
Though in branches we shine
differently. I am someone
else with my feet. I walk above
the sand and the sand
doesn’t feel me. What
a bloom my feet make.
Slow turning point. Blot.
There is no cancellation.
---
There is the man
and the woman
I am not. Open my hand.
In the center is
a hole. And here a coin
to push on through it—
a token for admission.
Come in, come now.
Here I have prepared
a place for you.
The Kingdom
***
I am nothing like
God. It gives me
pleasure, I said, it gives
me pleasure,
stretching out my hand
before. This body
is bigger than my other
body. I am longer,
and the belly looms. Get
up, somebody says.
Get up get up get up.
The sky is my white
sheet. I press my face up
into it. It is wonderful.
The ground grows cold
beneath me, grass
springs up where I was. All
a matter of distance,
someone says. Distance,
yes. Now the wind
comes up to feed me.
Rosewater. I am tasting it.
I bring it all my breaths.