from Take Me to Church
Ayatollahs and the rubied sands
husks of men blown by the years.
Speak now, forever hold your peace
O man, our bones groan with novelty.
The wilds are a place desolate
the weeping crane, lantana
and the ostrich.
Breathe haemocyte through ventricles,
ring the funereal bells backwards
"in the beauty of the lily."