The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Night Swallow

Counter-distinction
implies no sacred identities,
clumsily crafted idols,
even the awe of gemstone
casts hubric shadows.

But one holy night stood apart
from time, from this placement
I stood as a girded pillar
beneath the stars of
Göbekli Tepe.

Suspended in a cosmic web
I cast the shadow that fell
upon 500 generations,
my arms wide open
my spear impaled in every heart.

I, I, I - beat the drums
gasped the sacred smoke
and fell backwards into
the deafening resonance
of homo hubrid's bloody musk.

I mistook my adolescent verve,
the erection of my being,
and forgot the lie I had uttered
to my son, that all this was ours.
My last bitter swallow returned no sweetness
only a last lingering taste for the truth.
■





©2022 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.