I
know your energy, this furnace of soot, this Lutheran Jerusalem: our bare
waves, our naked chaos, our blatant wholesomeness: if but your mind, sold for
glory, rebuked for innocence: this cooking elegance, this shifty loyalty, or
those mischief leprechauns—as Alaska melting, or by a thousand days of
darkness, such frozen intimacy: our subtle contention, our wilderness tundra,
or more, this sipping with passion. I
know your energy, this fair wife, this remote lioness: at years destroying
kelp, or tyrannies to aiding souls, where some are quite infuriating: this palm
of snowflakes, that seventh hour of majesty, or less, this filter, this
imagination: our romances bleeding, our chainsawing oceans, as thus, this
remarkable conscience—as fools driven, this blast by nostrils, our tripod
ecstasies. I thought about you, this
person I channel, this person I ignore: this American Winter, this American
Summer, this Conglomerate by America: this film reaching, this soul born inside
trees, this Branch flogging contentions—as livid scientists, or religious
scientists, to die one foot cemented in gravel: our porcupine fevers, this otter
backstroke, this orange grape—as, moreover, a curse, this built towards Israel,
this origin towards Ethiopia: our great lakes, this intensive care, this
intensive glare: while mother arranges curses, if but to hear you sing, if but
to push those crevice buttons: our Sahara blood, our resurrection plants, this
transmigration—sensing this flying thought, while rebuking this flying
squirrel, where chimera cameras explore armrests frequencies: this man to
feelings, this woman to treacheries, if but life a village of lemurs: this
cordial pain, this mantis symbol, this field of bamboo dreams: as accustoms
life, this moth by guts, our souls burping up butterflies—as trying souls, this
Voltron exhibition, our transforming science: to awaken screaming, while
reaching for Love, to realize this need for Love: our vein-thickets, this
cerebral cactus, or our leaves hopping planisphere(s). I know you energy, this crescent dance, this
invisible sensitivity—those pails by agony, those rails by foot pressure, this
silent-vocal twig: if but to perish, laughing at insanities, while bolder this
exchange by vultures: those moral grains, those gummy realities, this flexible
enchantment: our days by oldness, our existence by youth, this disposed
existence by both: our asthmatic spirits, our chameleon moments, or this thrill
to sights prior to realizations: as women dying, or men subduing, to have this
war betwixt primates and humans: this sakata indigenous, this Yolanda Tornado,
this super intellectual therapist: as men for honesty, aside for clearance, to
invest true thoughts void of elevation: as penguins moving, or emperors ruling,
while fond this diamond of voices. I
know your thoughts, this wealth by suspicion, this phobia towards believing: as
casual souls, this brain as nostrils, this counselor as feeling resistance:
this place of see-through(s), or this
river of psychotics, while holding certain principles dear to arcs: this
linguistic iguana, this metaphysical gecko, where life was riveting before our
genius sickness: this place as challenging, this tortoise examination, this
choice of breads: our hard breathing, our apish instincts, if not for
complaisant niceties: indeed, to pulling backwards, our silverback
psychiatrists, our gorilla therapists: as but a soul, suspended in pains,
stumbling for nibbling mental-grass: this fair exchange, this sauté’d
grass. I know your pain, as far from
clairvoyance, while more to this station in time: our scientific glances, our
religious suggestions, or our fumbling through historical facts: this length of
time, those chimpanzee earlobes, this generation of fireflies: at burning
hearts, or orangutan simplicity, to put life in a nutshell: this fair
condition, this want for brightness, this need to suggest, I care!
