I
filled glass-water, this clear bear, this red wine: our suicidal*s, our massacres,
our blood-work: our livers, our kidneys, our bladders: to face God, this church
as children, this Mega Adventure: whereto, this predicament, this angry man,
this resistant future: this evening struggle, this mystic juice, this inner
cultist: our charms by cigars, our grandfathers laughing, our grandmothers
shooting darts: mother’s insulin, father’s insulin, this pot of gumbo: this
secret affair, this haunted house, those buried jewels: this seething bank,
this running lake, this palm held by Jesus: this Clairvaux Kiss, this steady
uneasiness, this Sienna Manic: our Jewish Communities, those priests with dreds, by codes of attire: this mystic
faith, this mystic gate, this mystic unreality: our diamonds with liquor, our
Crosses with fire, our onyx with grandmother: this weight pendulum, this
healthy face, this narrow jaw: our perfect women, our immortal daughters, this
field of yogis: this Buddhist Grin, this Buddhist Brook, this tragic occasion.
{…at radical cheers, pleading happiness,
caught for mangled beneath inches: losing purpose, but throttling faith, at
this pregnant feeling: those red eyes, that drained countenance, this man
searching for luster: while facing days, this faceless race, at sudden
interests this space in Asia: this New York trip, this New York College, this
sensual secretary: this subtle game, as testing morals, to scream at silence:
this miracle for brains, this heavy breathing, this lonesome gym: our engines
gutted, our running in reverse, our ignitions transferred to seeds: this inner
lagoon, this deer with eyes, this woman too afar for gin: this fair minx, at
laughs with guts, at terrible inner mirrors: this theologian, this need to
profess, this pulling sensation: this curse with Satan, this grin as lethal,
this too close for father’s comforts: this bleeding soil, our African guts, our
African intestines…}.
…too
much pride, this minute to second death, this trestle, this symbol: to rethink
Love, while feeling repressed, while cagy but lost: that judgmental tone, that
judgmental color, this anodyne absence: this thinking with races, as affronted
with ease, to resist until one acquiesces: this feudal domain, this liquid
curse, our enamored souls: this thing with scruples, unless rooted in
insecurities, where glances become morning silence: [at rhapsodic hopes, or
occultists mystics, where life could if troubles demanded less attention]: to
unbolt, to revolt, to die rethinking: this hapless existence, while Love is at
love, while theoretics are at metaphysical concerns: this fiery essence, this
fiery soul, this seat at successions: our primal passions, our isolated
inheritance, or better, this noetic warfare: those dusky skies, this ghetto by
dreams, this mental trumpet: this gorgeous sight, if but our run, while soon to
hate such resistance: this casual touch, this intentional foot sweep, this man
a bit emphatic: to see that countenance, to know that grin, to resist this
verse: this burnished marble, those Mosaic Plates, this prosaic address: this
livid curse, this tell for such fluidity, our brains conforming our contours:
that business look, that family look, that intelligent look: as feeling uneasy,
as remembering Good Times, or faded
for dizzy while spinning afore vomit: this inner portico, this mental
churchyard, this fevered Bastille: our casual disdain, this life as lived, to
return while frantic a nervous laughter: this fleece of roses, this fleece by
souls, this fleece upon cosmic overcasts—as running backwards, to sense her
grace, to plead forgiveness—as leaping dreams, this imperfect pearl, this grand
indemnity: our souls laughing, our guts heaving, our chests wheezing: this pump
for concerns, those asthmatic outbursts, or tender upon advice while
disappearing….
