I go
for deeper, this reaper-ghost, this woven mother: our feelings, as slammed to
razors, as split by repercussions: this wintry city, this autumn crime, this
car for cuffs: to scream at Yahweh, to ask Her name, to retrieve symbols: this
bloody blue nylon, this old behavior, this vehicle too close: this damn
squirrel, this bag of popcorn, or that old Vice Principle. I laugh with shame, too steep for clearance,
to odd for formalities: this mystic wind, this inner valley, this opus concern:
terrible mistakes, this adult enterprise, that sleazy motel: that bar of
legends, this San Francisco Paradise, our inheritance a bit shivering: our
daughter’s lot, those sophisticated elements, this night to purple science:
this pop with icing, this icing with innocence, this father with wine—our days
at glamour, to admit culture, while writhing this red monsoon: this treacherous
fever, this treacherous behavior, this need for treacherous forgiveness: that
oxymoron, this relic paradox, where a blink to eyes redeems a nation: our
pebbles for mammon, our banks for chasing, our pistols for Jesus: as Peter died, this vanished miracle, to bleed in soul but forgiven: this lot as told,
this church as ringing, our Mega Concerns.
(…those tragic years, those tragic realities, this perfect
phantasmagoria: this jasper sun, this violet case, this brief for freedoms: our
brains shifting, our years proffer forgiveness, our mothers too close to
deaths: as feeling good, or feeling hope, our veins giggle persistence: this
father with child, this father with streets, this father accustomed to
life-wiggles: at creeks sipping, at coppice sipping, at sheaths laughing: this
sheet of tears, this chronic fever, this epistemic concern: to want for
classification, to ask this man Jesus, to redeem a flower spitting on
behaviors: this gnat in jars, this pet-peeve, while our garden is flushed with
insanities: this screaming gate, this screaming psych, this fretted introject:
this man running, as slammed into pausing, this warfare with self: this frantic
mirror, as melting walls, while difficult for clarity: [this inner bastard,
this old scripture, this sign as always at difficulties: this dragon curse,
this Pisces life, this deep infraction: this field of thugs, this laughing
liquor, this grain as steep our cultures: this channel grinning, this theater
whining, this losing as winning: this gee thought, this correlation, this manic
at metaphysics: this physic design, this physic brain, this noetic we
forsook—as regenerated consciousness, or mindstuff daughters, where granny felt
good to break demons: this flood of miracles, this flood of patients, this
inner man He couldn’t reach]: as heard a voice, to echo a thought, while seated
for millennia listening for that repeated voice: this space in fevers, this
space in brains, this soul controlled by fluid forces: this daughter amazed,
this mother a bit shy, this man laughing at game: this inner psych, this inner
therapist, or this jasmine green moon: to face Satan, as one alive, while
cursed this sight of Elijah: this Kings Book, this Chronicle Book, this highly
spiritual nightmare: as rounded a fool, sipping lemonade, at thoughts concerning
potency: [this unfair reality, these knit realities, as infested by substances:
or deep religiosity, or unsafe thoughts, where it’s hard to let down one’s
guard]: this rowing mother, this baptized granny, this reckless Protestant:
this young minx, this sophisticated sylph, this man pleading deceased: those
grounds for resting, this school by affairs, this locker as mine: this blunt
those years, this stabbing through traffic, this tale as won: our curses political, this feeling broke and disgusted, or rich
and gangster: our eyes laughing, our cries dying, or souls to transmigration:
these flying ghosts, this Leaping Energy, our eyes rising filled with contempt:
that cold glare, to bat a feeling, while damn near at comforts: this feeling
person, awaiting fear’s arrival, to sit in total amazement: this bleeding
brain, this large estate, those historical pyramids: at guts a bit ecstatic, at
thoughts concerned with lights, too innocent to remember that feeling: our
agonies golden, our persecutions as tragic, our reparations as vicarious…).
