…we
love legends, this icing upon cake, this immortal feeling: to ache in private,
our crumbling ants, this mental fence—as gates tumble, where temples assemble,
while at wonders this extravagant soul: our courage futile, our retreats
laughing, this brain of sawdust: this machete spirit, to ponder high-rising
thighs, and protruding hips—our rabid feedback, our incorrigible blessings, our
incorrigible assets: this tiny camera, lodged in amygdalas, pushing acidic
neurons: if but nausea, our warrior guts, this intestinal chase: (those curious
cries, this fuel leaking, this internal gas-plant: our dreams as crafts, this
seeping into justice, a bit concerned by injustice). …by clever avenues, this temporal escape,
this frontal phantasmagoria: those converse jingles, this mere excitement, or
this bucket of issues: to feel concerned, living this internal cathedral, this
city of clairvoyants—those remarkable brains, as perfecting something extra, as mistreating our existence:
this fool’s dynasty, this room so crowded, and by sights only one person: to
have vulnerability, while chasing concrete, where abstracts reign supreme:
those shy gestures, this misread glance, this shimmying nightmare: that fatal
light, that fallen glass, those embedded shards—as red wine trickles, our palms
racing, our heads clashing—this vision too proud, this attempt shunned, this
musical alarm. I hold by course, this
laboratory of mice, this animal kingdom of cousins: our sublime romance, this
chance to pace, these singing dunes: as radical ripples, so pushy by guards, so
lethal we die: to approach cobras, this radical meerkat, those protruding
elements: this waist-high sandcastle, this buried luxury, and our souls filled
with uncertainty: that sheer existence, as if by chase we live, to court with
Hennessey our breaths: this mismatched lullaby, this Beethoven alligator, those
serious portraits: this political alimony, this rising crocodile, or better,
those ferret eyes.
