Its heavy violence, as remarkable courage,
seething through blueberries: this craving villain, our current vomit, our
nervous intestines. Its rabid
cultivation, or mirrored grievances, while colored this racial strife: our
bandit warfare, our melodic sadness, or more this vivacious melancholy: to
sense eyes, our crowded rooms, this lonely village: if bursting in flames, to
settle at coldness, our mystic affairs: this yogic diamond, this cultic glen,
this field of combined efforts: our parents laughing, our eating frenzies, this
day to fasting. I die daily, as resurrected, our minutia
minutes: that crafty gaze, those foreign eyes, this need to become oneness:
that fevered delicacy, this fevered dis-order, our kinship with boarder-line
tendencies—as miracles moving, our rooms with winds, this battle with nature:
as Mt. Olympus, or Roman Cathedrals, those churchlike insecurities: to meet a
friend, as nonchalant, while moving fire, ablaze: that candid cry, those
innocent alibis, this love as furious occupancies. I tether horizons, those orange/red skies,
this telic blackness: wherewith, this delicate ice-land, this polar bear
intensity, our paving(s) upon snow-furies{…}while told this man, this shallow
current, wherefore, this dedicated searching: if but for clarities, at essence
moving, to film with silence this newborn cub.
I see mysteries, this vague existence, tugged towards silent rooms: this
woman watching, our rays to wonders, this yanking out as if to perish this circus:
our stomachs aching, this cinema at reverse, our petals testifying existence:
this infinite chase, this potent affection, our pianists stroking
energies.
We
lose innocence, roaming contagions, left seated at memorials: our cries to
life, this feeling to abrasions, this pillaging internal screams: as showing
souls, or tragic beings, with others
robbing our confidence: this demented outlook, this purpose to destroy, our
days to placating villains.
I love Swanship, moving through ski-soars,
at terrors our eyes fail for forgiveness: as lifelong adversaries, holding our
discomforts, disgusted for truths waved through cities: that terrified glance,
those shivering knuckles, that air as foul our afoul’d dissertation: that
burgundy fen, this ache to brains, our heads pounding pillows.
We hug laughter, our eyes to quickness,
this treble-like emotion: our cadence weaving, those instruments blaring, our
caring for lies that reappear: this indebted man, those indebted skies, this
morning’s coffee: as feeling loosened, while shackled to perceptions, this loop
spinning its sins—as pure contagion, while it feels good, this mirror needing
its victims: that craved soul, aborted at inception, whereto, this neighbor’s
first son: our camera eyes, our x-ray brains, this existence that cartoon
texture: as more are living, this silent nudging, while trekking through
cave-storms: that radical cry, that grackle’s death, this inner owl racing
through leaves: our innocent infractions, that disdain for honesty, while
reaching for honesty’s affections: our machinery, those tribal drums, our
African art: as told to live, while chugging a noose, while apparitions appear
as brain-data: that wild hair, those long nails, that free-flowing gown: those
blackened retinas, those shaved eyebrows, that poignant nose: those mirrors
screaming, our ceilings withstanding, this chain with links that door: as born
to rituals, crawling from mud, while washed this kingship baptism: such
thought-filled women, this miracle to survive, our academies teaching
skepticism: this heightened love, that torn confession, this epistemic swan.
We sudden by existence; realized in
consciousness, afloat a stream peering at kites: that soft moment, those
sugarcane eyes, our coconut breaths: that palm of sand, our sodden emotions,
our misery becoming exportations: as pure beings,
or livid philosophies, purchased by insights: that private essence, this
driving sensation, those swanic powers.
