Black majik filaments,
sticky with entropy
tie me down, like four-point restraints;

I am a husk in syndication,
reruns of dyspeptic cannibalism
and soullessly cultivated afternoons.

A cock crows abruptly, the vessel

breaks

freeing my moon,
stars gathered in my hand to be thrown
at a basalt sky -

and the sun bursts into atomic candy;
I am ardency incarnate,
the cheshire cat with a thousand truncated canaries.

Amber Toohey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/saturn-with-a-waning-moon/