So
much ambition: Dear God, am I Caesar?
Reincarnate Us, as perfect jewels, our schemes concretive ligaments: this
portal by dreams, this woman by notions, this feeling abrupt assassinations:
whereto, this inner spirit, this autumn feature,
this mental visitor: while cursed bleeding, searching for loyal friends, to
convert to something obscure: this telic religion, this telic device, our
burdens hallowed in quicksand: as, notwithstanding, this silk in blood, this
blue ocean, this dolphin screaming concerns: whereby, this solace to aches,
this grimace subsiding, this mystic to wells:
our savage fathers, our remote mothers, this angst that touch has invaded our
homes: our gramps tipsy, our grannies cooking, this niece spewing saliva: as
cultured deaths, this cheesy empire, our Rihanna’s at cliffs debating: to seize
through Beyoncè, this bipolar agent, while infused a tender sacrifice: this
Native Child, this inner eagle, our tuataras sprinkling angel’s dusk: therein,
this mansion of thoughts, this mansion of possibilities, our mystics writhing
for deep at controls: to want with violence, such adverse scars, if but such as
elation: that fair skin, those rubric eyes, this body to die his existence—as
touched, streaming deeply, to have Us as
our wives: this tasty morsel, this fidgety magnet, our nights adrift feeling
confusions. It was hell to love,
sipping for smoking, alive some sorts by features:
this inner vacuum, this English dinosaur, that ancient, rubescent palace: that
aesthetic womb, as pictured perfection, to examine close to every line: while
hated for breathing, this sightless creature, at wars concerning obvious
activity: therewith, this fatal exposure, to conjure spirits, as invoked to
rescue vengeance: that misfitted soul, those misfitted cries, this line in red
abusing its practice. (Spirits
search, as peering into authenticity, to return with frigid violence): our
salmon dinners; our pinecone deserts; this pantheon of human inventions—as
steep in Isley’s, this TV excursion, this love for Love despite truths: if but
to dance, this inner anthology, this citron in Cypress—as alienated to cities,
where danger lurks, our a.m. tragedies—this fair love, this aching lemur, our
birds but ignored—for life becomes cocaine, as mothers walk wars, this feud in
men a bit to dying: hereto, this subtle Calypso, this excess of passionate
deaths, wherewith, this fetus’ resurrection—if
laced our Pentateuch, while searching for exits, to invest such
reasoning into something by eyes: that river tallness, that examined womb, this
plight concerning beautiful childbirth: that fair death, that alpha male, those
young magnets: our mango pies, our leaping caves, our bachelors becoming
bachelorettes—if but his lady, to die his sins, at curses rehearsed in tragic
elation: this manic drool, this fetching goddess,
our apes stationed in solid isolation: those tender eyes, our neighboring
langurs, our urban cities plagued with indigestion—while cut to gristle, as
torn to grizzle, our New York peregrines: that lavish creature, those beautiful
sea-monsters, this seven headed tiger-beast: as lives his love, to want with
death, this knowhow Manhattan—as lives his grief, to fret with phases, looking
for at disgust this city of starlings—that fine grain, this sickle impala,
those leopards as easy with utter desolation: this lion at depression, our
aerobatics, this trapeze carrying its destruction: that wild whale, this
vulnerable ship, this harpoon stressed as missing: that target bleeding, this
man to grievance, this woman making for comforts: our inner exits, this gate to
havens, to find with essence another vulture: those brilliant eyes, that
egress-entrance, this plight as entryway to mystic excitements: our
controversies, this war for pontiff, this hatch as layered by insidious eggs:
hereto, this alley as peaceful, our music as insightful, this castle as our
gods—to die living love, our mystic conundrums, as persons want for
exploration: that limbo abyss, that first hug, our days to recruiting our
separations: as cold warmth, or chilled excitements, while running from castles
to palaces.
