In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

86 The Slaughter of Snow-Birds This is the story of the slaughter of snow-birds But I shall begin it from your body Your body was wild barley That was sold, robbed or ravaged The dress woven of ibex wool and cedar fiber I wore the day I took oath— on the rawhide shield and the magnetic-ring in your finger— of life In cupped mirrors was an image of variegated sands “It’s me!” you said and the mirrors began to cloud Your supplication in the world’s most ancient tongue was received Both as a song and a lie I only wish you had not kindled your body so Preceding God’s Day of Fire was the Day of our Union 87 At harvest time of the quick-growing crop the images of an alien god were polluting waters When I relinquished a dream and saw a part of my life coalescing in water The cemetery gates were painted red with vermilion And the way further up was strewn with common pearls and fish-hooks made of bone Other than your body I had no net to rescue the sinking life I said to you Give me two locks of your hair and help mother weave them into a bow-string After your refusal begins the tale of my woes Which I shall begin from the nails and eye-lashes of the basket-weaving girls who were obliged during a protracted famine to kill the snow-birds in their baskets ...

Share