…our
asthmatic hearts, this thief running hillsides, or persons unbeknownst to
senses: that invisible room, that roaring chimney, that puffing sincerity: those
lonely trees, so close afar, and never a nudge: but roots meet, as mingling
underground, our souls fretting Christology….
I
used to fantasize: I think as sameness: I’ve found nuance…this tender
deliverance, this mother’s smile, this deceased lullaby: as henchmen
negotiating, or lieutenants reclassified, or harlots becoming holy: this
dynamic princess, this inner goddess, this lascivious but harnessed womb: our
rules laughing, this father sinning, or Physical Ed. intelligence—this black
hell, this white darkness, or tears this Jamaican Queen: that slur, those
romantic pianos, this blood blue daisy: our daughters feeling night-cares, our
sons muscling without reasoning, or granny that three a.m. cigar: to roam
softly, at mystic captures, or sitting awaiting one thump: that box of voodoo,
that vase of holy water, or this four year old dazing for aglow: our mother’s
secrets, this film in Hindi, or days to studying Krishna: that other Jesus,
this inner Buddha, or something high until deflated: that serious Pragmatist,
that crucial Psychiatrist, or that moved Psychologist: as inverted therapists,
or sagacious clowns, or mulatto prisoners: our benighted bones, our slighted
marrow, at currents afloat this dynasty of thieves: those sapphire rubies,
those dangerous tendencies, where a man might fantasize: this cut leaking, this
blood born flower, or this rising oaken bark. I often by wonders—concerning your heart,
to ask if maybe you’ve felt our dilemma: this caveat peeking, this decease by
pegs, our brains gathered for autopsies: that Sade pain, that Aretha soul, or
minutes to denying human-hood: those jasper skies, this rainbow cry, or men too
serious concerning pure deception: at games, right—or unending trials, right—where
death becomes our credulous lovers: as melting for brick, this solid asshole, to
insist she open doors for his mistress: this cruel winner, those cruel eyes,
this cruel insanity: (our alone moments, or craving dismissed by crowds, as
forced to redeem self: this comical genesis, this expert loser, or reborn
feeling superior: this eight dollar bill, this glass steel, or those plate
eyes): if but to ruin, this self as loved, this breath as puffing: to out-type
our futures, this paralegal maniac, as placing Judges under
cross-examination. I die an inch, as
one elated, while leaping something is infused: that vision of interiors; that
vision of exteriors; or this empirical nightmare: our last posits, our
deceptive everything! or this mission
misguided belonging to children: this grown tear, this river of metaphors, or
charisma too emphatic to resist: our bets so low, our stakes so high, while
pouting for one so unbelievable: that mazeway of ambition, these core rebels,
or days to admiring pure delusion: if but this soul, if but our aches, to live
as isolated triumphing over existence: this clump of grass, this soil beneath nail-beds,
this fire running low on survival: our women stories, this bad ass machine, this lethal ass glory: our watery
gems, this song splaying doubts, to find Love was too proud: our diced onions,
our superb grounds, or rapt’d in Flowing Light: that dramatic tone; that
dramatic grin; or collapsing for at rest those silvers. …if but our deaths, to embark upon our
livers, this vodka, this woman, this negro needing infinity: our boxes, our
moving(s), our boosting empires: as alive in quietude, racing through
vicissitudes, a bit kindled, or utterly rude: this light bouncing, this woman
at rhythms, to find that poets die asearch for, Cutie: this four door Impala,
this stabbing Caprice Classic, or baby so low her eyebrows are swimming: to
spin aces, by radical diamonds, or trumped by clubs: this
wafting scent, this wafting tomb, those crazed insights: at organic miseries,
fleeing for fled, adrift for manic searching this industry: this quite insistence,
this aggravated attraction, and that hilarious, edible glow…!
