ii. the dust still hums

after lamentations 2

Arise, cry out in the night,
you wild thing 
of the earth, as the sun 

does when she begins her nightly 
death, burning the water 
in the air into a masterpiece 

of blood 

Arise, cry out in the night
you wild thing 
of the earth, pour out 

your broken 
heart like a cracked cistern 
that leaks the stale water 

you insist on drinking 

Arise, cry out in the night 
you wild thing
of the earth, as the wind 

blows in a tempest of rage, throwing
a tantrum of dust on your mourning 
head like sackcloth 

and ashes 

Arise, blaze, cry out in the night! 
Wake the sleepers and dreamers 
alike, as your home 

is swallowed up into the churning, 
endless stomach of multiplying 
particles and disease, for your ruin is as vast 

as the sea, still burning

Arise, wild thing, tell them 
how this home you once knew is used 
up. As a mother wails, open your languishing 

mouth in a melancholic tune. Can you see 
what your own fainting body 
is becoming, even 

as you hide? 

O, cry out in the night
—still, now— and listen 
to what remains and the forgotten songs

the dust still hums in the silence. 

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If you’re just joining in, read the preface essay to the lament series here. Thank you for being here with us today!