Page 152
By Jack Joseph Smith
Her Loss of Touch
From kingdoms, and places at the squalid end
Across what used to be known, about the land
and about the seas; it was her entire hand,
not her finger, that she waved across
the universes, and you couldn't bank on it,
cause when she started, they didn’t have any
Still she makes and corrects the wild, but
way back them she ran the wind as well
She wished on both tongues, even when
truth cared, and told a rhyme of life,
when the face of madness was not faceless
Im the black of night, sex looked like
the Rese of David,. and bad dreams came
awake to the love she todsed as a sword
to the sky