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I Dreamed My Genesis I dreamed my genesis in sweat of sleep, breaking Through the rotating shell, strong As motor muscle on the drill, driving Through vision and the girdered nerve. From limbs that had the measure of the worm, shuffled Off from the creasing flesh, filed Through all the irons in the grass, metal Of suns in the man-melting night. Heir to the scalding veins that hold love’s drop, costly A creature in my bones I Rounded my globe of heritage, journey In bottom gear through night-geared man. I dreamed my genesis and died again, shrapnel Rammed in the marching heart, hole In the stitched wound and clotted wind, muzzled Death on the mouth that ate the gas. Sharp in my second death I marked the hills, harvest Of hemlock and the blades, rust My blood upon the tempered dead, forcing My second struggling from the grass. And power was contagious in my birth, second Rise of the skeleton and Rerobing of the naked ghost. Manhood Spat up from the resuffered pain. I dreamed my genesis in sweat of death, fallen Twice in the feeding sea, grown Stale of Adam’s brine until, vision Of new man strength, I seek the sun. Dylan Thomas's other poems:
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