Superstitious

…at wires to throats, or loquacious coats, or opalescent pistol-mouths: our rigid gravity, this flower waning, our brains breaking—if but for tares, this talkative weed, at greed(s) this spacial galaxy: our rippling curses, this woman’s womb, our fantasies to rest-planks: as born for hospitals, this crazed novitiate, our nuns praising telekinesis…that thousandth scar, those bars to rooms, this male psych: or women screaming, free-flowing mane, attempting to seduce—as frantic wives, at distance but love, to admire one too far that cloudberry: as captive men, sensing sex, to look with passions pulled our guts: that manic spell, this wretched advice, our angered therapists.     I called deer-eyes, a frog for prince, this book designed to aid furies: our manifestos, this metaphysical existence, our existential giants: that brain to Kierkegaard, this death to Camus, our carcasses reprinting our fears: this mother with pains, this man at false elation, our senses blurry with those we adore: that magic woman, that mystic man, those carnal passions—as left with treasons, while evolved as wholeness, to live this division of morals: that secretive kitchen, this inner male, that inner femininity—as sorry for clashing, while ruthless by kidneys, at bladders guzzling aqua…this relic lizard, this telic tuatara, those instinctive dinosaurs…to bawl his dreams, our kleptic sensualities, as tried, so parsed, he failed: that old image, as once a queen, while drugs for liquors destroyed cadence—this fuse to waters, this warm-bath, those flogging membranes_ our memories but seconds, while much has drifted, where it felt sadness to miss life: that grave spinning, this cactus resistance, our deserts resting in wells: that plain algae, those allergic eyes, this compelling infidelity…as sorry for clashing, where wars are destined, while clocks tick as carnal witnesses: that fern breathing, those plankton revolving, our lowlands becoming too humble: where mother dictates, as father instructs, as mystics cleave this invisible experience: as out-sided Pagans, or inverted Jews, while something ticks in Germans: our Dutch passions, this castle gleaming, our miracles through studies: that bipolar machine, those twain excursions, as met with harmony running for chaos: our Doctor Gertrude’s, our spirit-exercises, this book as remaining nameless: those psychiatric cries, this thin vessel, our tears washing our deliverance: if but this flirtation, as deep this silence, where tender minds are persuaded.     We exist as pantheons, an uprooted tear, our woes speaking through showers: or more this fire, to evolve for taken, our quilts by waters and fluids—that running frenzy, as hypomanics, while invisible to but our thoughts: our serpent genetics, our whale-wolves, this saber-tooth, his inner intestines—as outward dynamics, those converse anthologies, this woman at tables spilling teas: our ruined blueprints, as saw a design, to erupt as this scholar’s fruit tree…that winter’s dissertation, that spring’s theses, our plans for culture as arriving at deep breakage: that resounding phone, this reckless rocket, our dreams tearing us to provocations…as mere men, attempting this miracle, to satiate an insatiable curse: our countless screams, this need for release, this fixity of frustrations: as forests bloom, or deserts are grassy, while it felt good to annihilate passions: this clashing sensation, this destroyed rebirth, our laughter to canyons…as souls cliff existence, to remain as algae, while follicles spill revolutions: to hope Us there, as infused creatures, where our souls thirst for our contagions: that gravel resistant, those clouds as returning, our waves as insistent: that fan as spinning, that remorseful switch, this ceiling awaiting its earthquake: if but as hallowed, this pit cemented, our arches as supported: or kleptic archeries, this hut upon sea-skies, this limbo extravaganza…afflux this floating world, this steep euphoria, as eyes meet that trenchant second—those sides broken, that alley fetching, this myriad of trinkets—as fatal loyalties, or loyal ambivalence, while love is determined by presence: this cold snow-bank, this furious god-castle, this mount for purchase as but attention: our wellic heat, as captive grains, as fevered its.