I
sit in shirt and tie, this long adventure, this chaotic Ghost: those
floor-beds, this riverbank, this flood of mesmerizing diamonds: this feud this
mother, this feud in fathers, this rift as sinking our guts: as blackened in
blues, or flowing catastrophes, this immortalized mystic-fury: this yogic
enterprise, this gut leaking, this new found lump: our cries to pain, our
levity with pain, or gravity seeping into pains: our casual Anthony, our
rehearsed Cleopatra, or days to deaths secluded in valleys: those rosary
passions, this heart as eyes, this soul as printed in gray grass: oh for
deceased, or living this mount, to cuss with ease to flurry this fire:
therewith, a curse, this addict fever, this alcoholic: if but to weekends, this
glen in reservoirs, this mother as losing existence: our paranoid nights, this
curtain as peeking, this dust as enflamed in nostrils: to sense something
askew, while reading Glamour, while
tending to feelings: this lost lottery, this ticket to silence, or essence to
guts ruined for honesties: that man craving, this library embedded, while
flipping for cursed this mystic obituary: to apply CoverGirl, to disdain
planetaries, as pure apes forbidden this pleasurous nightmare: our cuts to
graves, our plaques to visions, or this music framed in symbols: this
solidarity, this poverty leprechaun, where beauty seeps into manipulation: this
dying in you, this rabid sacrifice, this absorption rearing its young: our
cabinet cries, our trinket tissues, this mobile sanctuary: if but to parishes,
this vestibule of doors, to enter while worshiping Nihilism: this small
vehicle, this leaky lake, our geese forbidding our destruction: as laughing
forever, or mourning forever, to have that thought those rubric eyes: as
Pantene cleansings, or Biorè tear-works, to encompass as deceased
heart-eyes. I adore an angel, I adore a
mystic, and finding tenderness this yogi: while ruined for found, or found for
ruined, to enjoy as dying this role as a blacksheep: those powdery antlers,
this antic controversy, this woman so soothing it burns: our conditioner souls,
this inner Neutrogena, or desperate this taste of acids: this swan dripping,
this father leaking, this brook encompassing night-visions: to crave as dying,
to live as remorse, where enough has banished its legacy. We live this way, scratching unto blood, our
scalps trickling into sentences: this Quixote curse, this florid friend, this
resonance at midday: this thrust to hearts, this fire to brains, this daughter
as livid this blessing: to muse with Divinity, or plague for Simone, while
entrenched in marital vows: this lyric as demented, this daughter as
deciphering, this phone as shutting silence: this revving Corvette, this model
his soul, this tale for one damn near maniacal: to pray too much, where God is
tired, to give for something against our harvests: this slaving Bugatti, this
ancient engine, this auction for something human: our bleeding concaves, our
inner moon-deaths, this sun as our poltergeist: to season earth, this inverted
steak, while silenced by this incredible love: those rosy swans, this bleak
reality, this penchant with souls feeling irregular: as Polo scents, or tadpole
kings, to erupt with time cursing this immoral generation. {I see eyes, I see vengeance, I see
deliverance: this botanical garden, this Swedish wand, this 3D horizon: our
pains as jewels, our pains as majesty, our joys as difficult to decipher: where
mystics meow, and yogis trespass harmonies, while guts ruin catastrophes: this
Vera Bradley, this artillery purse, this artery pleading to beg for difference:
our powerful coupe, this cage breaking wings, to float upon a mortal feather:
as men loathing, or women hating, while God made Her claim: at dark
trepidation, or pigmented auxiliaries, or permanent tear mercenaries: to drift
with sadness, to cuss with madness, or to lay pictures to roots: this
photograph, as speaking its language, to relax while drenched in Herbal
Essence: this deep disguise, this dying to live, this purpose as battle
trainings: this power in clothes, this cloth as metaphoric, this likeness as
cemented in thoughts; our love as rioting, this stranger saying hello, this
father undergoing carnivals}!
