We felt essence, this methodical bone, as
lives sheared to grizzle: this pigeon watching, that tarantella’s neck, that
dragon’s fire—as remote-controls, racing as Pac-Man, or an ambivalent desert-viper—to
stress as kosher, alive a vibration, our waves moving bodies. I awoke demons, such internal laughter, to
remember as chaos something precious: this well bleeding, our verbs to chandeliers, our ambitions sawing at
bars. It takes insanity, to capture
interests, while floored to rising behaviors: that elegant dream, so soft a
current, our brains at, alleluia! I cursed an element, this para-membrane, fluxed at sky-frenzies—to
love as cherished, those forgiven kettles,
laughing for bawling and crawling her essence; where panic soothes, as cutting
tissue, our treasure-chests excavated…to perish gently, those eloquent clouds,
this loquacious river [as heard her thoughts, somewhere his caves, searching
for persons an empty room] this inner veneer, those marbles spinning, our
rabid, psychotic jumping-jacks; insomuch, a scream, craving this presence, to
want for dying as to relinquish love: that contra-soul, those contra-grains, as
livid a miracle, (to relax with shame): our terrible tendencies, as torn ajar,
at funeral feelings: that invoked island, those marshmallow sensations, to cut
for laughing aside a mortuary; where flowers gather, as bearing witness, our
silence spoken for by nature. We ache a
dream, riveted with ripples, our days for nights at gravity—this mixture
weaving, our wounds welded, at terrors leaking essence; as born a thought, to
become a feeling, this clutching by guts pleading mercy; whereat, lagoons,
those geese coddling, as unraveled a fireball—to strike at cadence, that sudden
explosion, at meadows a tier rebuilding its guts—to fever with justice, to
crave for ecstasy, as arriving with eternity fixed to intentions: this raking
sensation, at lives with contempt, to pardon in deaths a deceptive flare…those
years to growing, a man to his mirror, a soul to theologies—where psychs are
relevant, as pain is evident, this vessel a product of trauma—that casual
affair, as so dismissive, our nonchalant investigations—to awaken laughing,
while wiping tears, to coddle a straightjacket: this inner vest, while rocking
gently, to place our brains against mirrors—those crying elephants, as so pink
with chaos, our knees to carpet depicting an image—as died eternal, to cringe a feeling, while at sudden hatred: those inner
scents, that broken room, this get out of jail fee; where mother breathes, as
breeding a colony, this mental ant-lamp.
We tear in agony, loving afar, this animal behaving as sentenced; while
labeled a monster, reading intentions, vying for authenticity—as a real human,
so lovely this eagle, to come beneath those pinions—therewith, as
semi-captured, while semi-religious, this semi-fire—as sheer reversal, this
straightforward carnival, to have for clowns a reason to run: those morbid
feelings, as pure elation, where it felt for love to confess: that tender
mistake, as alert and cringing, to relax pitted in clammy intestines—that
remarkable essence, as blessed for sinning, while sin became this error in self…that
elf to screams, this mental condition, our genius becoming our scars—as
laughing for falling, while clanging for ghostly, to enliven a tender
aggravation; indeed, to patience, leering as torpedoes, barreling into heart-skies—this
cagey aggression, to utter a sentence, as pure confrontation: those actions as
wheezing, our reflexive feelings, that deadly kiss…as sights abroad, fleeing to
Jamaica, as returning to essence a different soul.
[Its soothing agony, this blossom by soil,
as sickle’d for threshed—that inner conference, that mental council, our tables
so round—where life as grandmothers, to have died that sickness, while cursed
to bleed adoring Jesus—as oh a convent, tugging at Gertrude, a bit congested
with religious divisions—as charismatic, assuredly apostolic, cautious about
St. Paul—a wilderness tear, our sky-pelicans, this terror-card at flights].
