You ask       I answer

the charnel ground

where there are no solids 
thus coming    thus going

DIY estrogen-needles thick

in the thigh
observe, oomfie, over

the charring    the ones left

for the scavengers, the proper steps

In the NGV      exhibit of Buddhas

free of impermanence

Guanyin, in glass, 
they have redeemed you

from rebirth

your arms empty
hold up half the sky, push it

away. Each dismembered finger

a close-step, open-step, counter-rotation 
I ask        You answer            so:

to begin the process

you eat a tree
pine needles, resins

 seeds you find

over the mountain
converting fat

whatever is left

into the attention 

to sustain the change/

the tempo- a body of

 no organs. You
observe the fires on YouTube.

“With what”      the Lord said

“is the step alight?” 
God is making

the world out of nothing- and

occasionally nothing seeps through                                                                           I whisper
You ask        I answer              the whole

air, botflies, the birds— their throats

blood hot— are turning 
in near-perfect time:

maggots —in chorus-line whisper—given

a new name, a sore can
be beautiful,

bacteria/viruses quiver

their gross little hands
the vultures open

like good monks the chests

of the dying
the flame is

quenched. The air

is abuzz. Bodies jerk awake
I ask     You answer    whatever

remains, whatever is

arisen, nothing special
nothing is changed,

pus oozes from cuts, milk

from new tits, what is putrid
what perks erect

at your voice,

the carrion 
wheel in the air. Carrion

inside and

out, chew, gorge, hesitation
between the measures, making

a circle as if to pronounce

the wheel is nowhere.