…you saw glory, this invisible collage,
our brains splayed: this intimate course, this intimate distance, our intimate
miseries: as cries a falcon, settled in Brail, alive this second verging upon
madness: our redish cheeks, this slamming heroin, our bones to yoga—as dies our
innocence, fueled by contempt, remanded by judges: moreover, this curse, our
closed eyes, this shy adventure: that myriad castle, those interior lights,
this exterior manager: if but to live, aside these feelings, as pure observers:
this freakish hell, this freakish dungeon, our windows printed with silence:
that cedar woodpecker, this animal that long abrasion, those tales told while
emotions are vulnerable: our days to lies, our essence to tethers, this noose
upon his heritage: as ghetto fools, this lavish Cadillac, those ounces as
coca. I laugh attractions, peering
into sentences, those years trekking laps: this building falling, this edifice
rebuilt, this present orange wine: if but our daughters or more our fathers, as
leasing instead of abandonments: our mothers livid, our brothers entrenched,
our sisters arguing with cousins: this smoky horizon, our feuds with venom,
this Lexus parked upon brains: that Bentley Impala, that Asian thief, this
woman loved as strong that affair—at curses bleeding, at rivers shivering, at
brooks deprived of mercies: our grannies dying, our women at kept passions,
while sold this adventure at deaths—as furious frameworks, or curious mantels,
this vase witness to over a thousand traumas: to love by swans, as curt for
ruined, where years vacuum this innocent stare: that poignant scholar, as
wrestling existence, a bit too smart for resistance: this flowing Tao, this
chopped up reality, our piecemeal elations: hitherto, this sullen angst, this
cordial address, this feverish addict—as broken records, to spew as needed,
while forever to traffic. (If ours to
grieve, I grieve sensations, while dead a slither: so cold to skies or anguish
cries, to love as received for passions: our afflatus insights, our dear
epiphanies, this major electricity: while hated for life, as perceived
successions, where authors retreat).
I changed a second, to remount an engine, thrust’d for reckless this
sand of bleach: our particles streaming, our mothers frantic, our fathers
cursing: to give accounts, as opposed to ruins, at feathers sullen this rich
caress: that woman laughing, as dying this castle, our daughters bearing
witness: (to read poetry, or philosophical treatises, as popular as outcasts:
this ostrich existence, this blackened sunrise, our cries to something there within: that warm embrace, to travel
beyond, as one explored for presence).
It’s died this section, to arise as deaths, while feeling with purpose:
this cursed infection, those thriving algae, our larva across a million waves:
to cut through patience, as gripped in affairs, to laugh at self this
theologian—our ladies winded, upon at clouds, as retrieved this dungeon of
chaos: this liquid sandwich, this fueled isolation, this fragile controversy:
our Irish rites, as Irish bishops, or Irish priests: where mother lives, this
interior sanctuary, as died for love while another cuts: this voice speeding,
this image as blinded, our aches as presidential: furthermore, this
philosophical, as religious habits, our refined antecedents: this crafty vice,
this slough upon innocence, this concretization upon doubts: our beating
hearts, this inner realization, this want to caress a dying fern: our needs for
safety, to grant his appeal, where unsaid vest becomes too powerful—to hold by
nights, to pick by pressures, to mold by courage: our casual brains, this
casual affair, this woman too gone for closures: as needing resistance, as
craving resistance, as dying this current by resistance: this agent dying, our
Federals absconding, this return as fueled by graduations: (this father absent,
this mother present, this realized infatuation: to cut livers, as mixed with
gravy, while hot a pepper feeling excitements). I tried hard, as cut against inclinations,
removed for years to happen upon love: this fragile sunshine, this vex to
brains, our essence bleeding its deaths: to court daily, this infatuation, this
woman’s addiction—as floored science, this cage mouse, our deliverance slow at
pace: those cold lenses, as warm receptors, above life falling into skies.
