Clayton Eshleman: “A Yuan Master”

University of Michigan Museum


Rocks rounded, lozenge-

contoured, coiled

as if roped,

dropped out of paradise’s asshole,

huddling, caterpillar-lank loops,

plop of a rock,

thrasher-alive, fist-sure, as if

shit could swell

with pride


Is that spirit,

or inscape’s abscess?

Traces of the god whose eyes are testicles in

the coiling whips of rivers?

As if Diana of Ephesus, bored with her platoon of breasts

gave birth to

a cactus

with breast-mimicking spines.