Formula for Waking Dreams

Mix a bag of unbleached flour,
water still milky from the tap
and brittle, yellow pages
that slip their binding.

Daub the mixture thick
on a wire frame tangled
as a snarl of hair.
When it hardens, this will be

your altar. Spill wine
along its scabby backbone.
Scatter seed at its misshapen
feet, and as the earth slips from under
the sun’s oppressive eye, you’ll see

why no face is many,
and your form is not dry at all

but molten.