Horse Latitudes - Jeffrey Foucault

Drifting info horse latitudes

The language of thirst, a false communion

The iron taste of blood

In your mouth, the wild blue

Dying into God’s empty hands

Silver the silhouette of ashes on the land

The bleach white skulls of buffalo face the sun

The burning sand

Where the halogen halos

Shine on the refugees

Banded birds flying

Up above and endless sea

God is the mouth

Of a river going dry

God is a mouthful of rain

A tear in your eye

Singing into the belly of a whale

Leviathan’s ribs, a drowning jail

The desert at the bottom of the sea

The devil with his finger on the scale