Cauliflower
sadness, as marches his brains, rafting through canyon sorrows—to hold by
sunshine, this pretense perfection, disrupting an ant trail: our masterpiece
pains, colored by theatre melancholy, congested, coughing, sparking his clove. Our flames by wires—our minds to
thought-flies, our inner rivers dreaded our voices: this film at captures—this
caption distorted, our valleys to commentators—this list of stars, our mental
horoscopes, this defeatist tactic held by conviction—as uprooted solitude, or caged
complacence, as fire freezes our motion: this bank of beliefs; as shared his
spoon; our roads forked by evidence. Our
seconds complete; our minutes straining; our gnats returning to haunt us: that
wrestling man, fiddling through herbs, beyond a smidgen uneasy: this restless
movement; those curious eyes; this patient but distraught reply; where sunrise
is joy, as hours wrangle clarity, to vex with presence his very brain—that
startled confession, as leaped his heart, mulling through captured documents:
this velvet distinction, as purple confusion, while one undergoes spiritual
upheaval: that cautious soul, at furnace’d tenets, by fevers addressed as Mystics: to undress leaves, or to palm
snails, where a ladybug speckles his mirror—that terrible closure, this portal
to brains, as lived his silence. (I live
in seconds, this rapture of souls, sitting for scrambling, attempting by
candles: this endless room, that hell-storm fly, this frozen rose—to action
with grace, at tracks within, facing existential crises: that fabulous gaze, as
prays his soul, by sudden leap our grayness—this thief of thoughts, this
rummaging trunk-cave, our stage-lights wrestling our instincts: as love to
live, to carry this thrust’d arc, as never so faint through panic). I’ll take for courage, nibbling peaches, adjusted
by future endeavors—to ride this train, as vivid a passenger, as caught a
glimpse of living—those high stakes, those immortal dice, this flock of geese
at stillness; to come by justice, at tales those stories, a bit so vocal by
tribunal: this flowing lily; that exciting centipede; that earthworm near
apples—as but to silence, at motion to live, as given to humanness.
