…magazine
ingestion, or radicalized emotion, needing this extra-pleat: our demonic
inclines, our angelic altruism, or years to tithes and alms: to explode
parties, to hand a skeleton hanky, or romancing fantasies: this clear illusion,
this potent confusion, or days at underground tunnels: our chained wrists, our
addict behaviors, or so stubborn it’s hard to exhale: this mental mantle, this
mental magic, this beating fire: as one adrift, seeking therapy, or realizing
it’s getting rough: this song admittance, this curious fever, or nights to
three hours of rest: that truck-stop, that gasoline, this exchange of furtive
glances: as reaching harmony, if but those minutes, if but that delusional
clarity: that is say, as one sees, as
one believes, or trespassing for
needing something stealth: our chaotic waves, this long light, if permanent,
this extensive existence: this core dread,
this frantic masculinity, or so softened she can’t drink: those grandparent
children, or graces by glaciers, at fraudulent and misplaced responsibilities:
this cave in brains, those roadmaps bleeding, or this dead-end screaming at
neighboring cul-de-sacs: our capital pains, stressed for ruined, while culprits
are next upon victims: in grief and dancing, our Sherlock tendencies, our
ironic closures: as emphatic animals, this ability to reason, while utilized as
vehicles for further madness: that lecture seeping forward, this gavel
laughing, as souls amble a thousand corners: moreover, a dream, concerning
flaming infatuation, at hopes but it peter’s softly: our Gotham Pride, our
Batman Avenger, or nights to seasoned souls: our youth abandoned, our feelings
as remote, or this ability so close but adrift another dimension: if but
accused, this layer of passion, this pulling insanity: those unnatural
histories, our minds with apes, our bodies with chimpanzees: this cold
accusation, this theologian losing, while fantasizing about those actions he
condemns: this tent’s paradox, this internal chase, or Spirit so enrapt’d in sexualities: those wailing demons, that
demonic adventure, this whispering self: our inclinations, as given to
temptations, or passed to mental omens: this mirror screaming, this inner voice
our essence, to realize those actions live in Us…. I speak to
beauty—our ancient tombs, this merry-go-round catacomb: our destined feelings,
or dramatic characters, or those traumatized satiations: our minds upon
bicycles, our cops as delayed cuffs, or tragedy exposing this need for
affliction: this pampered soul, but yearning contrary, to die as livid while
pacified: our deep riddles, this sensational sphinx, or Love so distraught her
bones are wheezing: this flip in satin, those forbidden raptures, this curse as
sensing distraction: this pulled winner, this tentative loser, or this
existential scientist: our ravished intestines, that release with fury, or pure
artificial intelligence: thereupon, this laughing friendship, this person but
always available, or this crying picture: those muddy palms, those muddy eyes,
at once, but told to breathe—as lunging forward, or bungee jumping backwards,
to realize Love has our entanglements: such picnic panic, such panic horizons,
at days reading something obscure: this reason to exist, this person with
wings, while flapping we chase: at, furthermore, shivers, this winking balloon,
this raving tea kettle, those immortal curses: to flee self, to become
religious, while daily sweeping our vestibules: at casual reflection, or
something reaching, to feel so ashamed of being human: this shifty claim, where
duty is paramount, while verbal
contracts should hold some weight: this reading glass, this monolithic, or
those orbs circling our inner hemispheres: at redeemed councils, those
thought-fights, or so at this person we betray existence: to lavish with
everything, to utter with exhausted passion, while screaming, tugging and dying
for sheer courage: this life in souls, this spirit at sciences, this fire in
something alive: as poets deconstructed, our venues shifting, our milieus
bleeding: this sense of abandonment, our rocky dietaries, our entrenched
petroglyphs: and, hitherto, this backwards glance, this deep lasciviousness,
this trenchant contradiction!
