…let
time increase, our dreams in sewers, our
laughs through hallways…our heavy palms, those languished screams, those
terrible roses: to adore as slanted, to frighten in images, or shaved, bathed,
and smelling gentle: this icy river, those snowflake jewels, or cupcakes
seeming into similes: as cried a swan, or adored a mother, this theological
repentance: our brains hanging, our guts traveling, or centered at Metropolis:
those surreal intensities, this surreal proclivity, or sails enveloping into
conscience realities: this broken vase, this gutter window, or trespassing
upchucking our ghosts: this running vomit, those tender eyes, those treacherous
inclinations: at Love giggling, at Love smiling, or so silent our walls are
shooting darts: this daughter as winning, this torture as presumed, for men rarely
conquer Vietnam: that passion digging, this web spawned with envies, while
gathered in Latin American Histories: our epistemic(s), our colossal politics,
at terrified expectations…. I belie
images, I die whistling, I flute as one designed: this wooden boy, this tale of
human-hood, or robbing for altruism: those troublesome sights, this young lad,
or days at hunger: this bag of potatoes, this rich family, this dying mother:
as sniffing or grinding, as whoring for feeling determined, or a hundred piece
blasted: that dark fume, this touch or intoxication, those pipes to new lips:
this turnout nation, this family of villains, or jaguar bite-force: our
travesties, our loses, our vampire canines: to remember an image, devoid of
feelings, or years so cold he’s desensitized: that small Doberman, that
screaming voice, or this need for companionship: that ghostly empire, those
ghostly tentacles, or men feeling inscrutable devices: our scalps torn neatly,
those cervical regions, this soldier first for drawing first for fifty years:
to pardon attraction, to feel uncivilized, to dream as escaping something
natural: this too far death, this miracle woman, as attracted to something
un-subjugated: this fair twist, to need for conquering, to need for full
freedom—as dying with Love, or freedom for Love, as smashing into concrete
concepts: this metaphysical, or pure reality, while werewolves roam his
conscious sphere: that man in black, that woman in turquoise, or screams
echoing through silent concrete: those capagen instincts, this stealth diary,
or speaking in so many tongues the countenance
cries. …we bit to bone, this boney
gristle, as dying alone: this world of colors, this daughter to industries,
those friends those territories—this inner wrenching, those pliers laughing,
this Hamlet Insanity—to see for purpose, our eyes watering, this travesty
becoming normality: this French War, this cursed Jesus, this tree this wall
those stakes: as fleeing his needs, while embracing screams, to ask for mother
one last kiss: those feudal Empires, this dynasty so young, or this inability
to apologize: this cut in science, this misery in psychology, to look at one
with pure impatience: to note knots, to reason cords, this para-dying: those long
poltergeists, this trenchant helium, or sherm leafs in order to function: this
violation, this creative truth, those
days to pills for Love was incorrigible….
Our women watching, to know for ghosts, as dragged for cursed and
feeling ruined—this last cure, this remote antidote, or souls at parties
rekindling anecdotes: that fair woman, as more than hearts, as more than
actions: to move this kef, to attain that position, while challenged to keep
it—this man gunning, our bodies diving, this gut laughing—as so cruel, this
inner movie, those dying theologians: at frustrations, at cure attics, or
destroyed for participation: in treachery, to look and want, to glide and
perish: those sad monkeys, those depressed eyes, or this similar feeling: to
ask by Life, this terrible affection, at wants to realize a soul healing his
tragedy: such melancholy, or schizophrenic sensations, while laughing close to
tears—this vehicle road-magic, this trapeze gut war, or hats fulfilling while
owners delight—as perishing wildly, a dime for phone-morals, or days to bathing
in battlefields.
