High Tension Lines across a Landscape

There are diagrams on stilts all wired together Over the hill and the wind and out of sight. There is a scar in the trees where they walk away Beyond me. There are signs of something Nearly God (or at least most curious) About them. I think those diagrams are not At rest. I think they are a way of ciphering God: He is the hugest socket and all his miracles Are wired behind him scarring the hill and the wind As the waterfall flies roaring to his city On the open palms of the diagram. There is Shining, I suppose, in that city at night And measure for miracles, and wheels whirling So quick-silver they seem to be going backwards. And there’s a miracle already. But I Went naked through his wood of diagrams On a day of the rain beside me to his city. When I kissed that socket with my wet lip My teeth fell out, my fingers sprouted chives, And what a bald head chewed on my sick heart!