The Pilgrimage: Part 39 / Phillip Neal Tippin

They said “take heart”
But I could not swallow
That pill, drink such sludge,
So I’ve brought it to You,
My Heart, to pour Your salt,
That at this Marah I may drink.

Language is that tribe of Levi
By which we ascend
Along His condescending Line.

The Intra-telos
Of speaking aloud

Play house
To make love
Homebound

The opacity of wealth,
Diminution,
Lachrimae magnificat,
Amplificāre.



All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2020-2021 by Phillip Neal Tippin. All rights reserved.

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