…we
used to laugh, it felt good, and now we cast glances and smile…. …it was earth those sights, to step
sideways, to act with intimidation: our degrees, our theologians, our
psychologists: as running into traffic, bare ass naked, while our world finds
laughter: (it was heaven to meet you, this pleasant creature, our darkness
settling in humility: at terrors, Dove, to imagine our eyes, to know our
history: that radical feature, as creeping forth, while bones saluted a dear
neighbor: at guts giggling, this salty phlegm, our days roaming islands: our
closest Love, our best friend, and still disconnection: this horrid feature,
this grandiose feature, this feature turning necks: our blood blue horizon,
this swamp dripping, those fifties at tables: our sex-life different, our glow
this mansion, our guts fueled by thunder: our essays, our nightmares, or
daughters too distant to reap benefits…as young magicians, listening to Sia, or
carefree listening to rap: where Love is watching, to sense something different,
this freezer so warm with reality: those books speaking dreams, those havens
too claustrophobic, while riding down souls that passed away: our mother’s
courage, our father’s soul, as gunning for something speaking humanity: this
stranger's face, as so electric, to jump, fall, and land in terrors: if but this
life, to meet at Wing Stop, to pause
and find redemption: but life is good, and life was ruined, and now so heavy it
becomes apparent): those broken shards, this perceptible quietude, as murderous
in this Bastille: our ups for downs, our courageous partners, to invest
everything in something finding its galaxies: those few, pushy and damn near
abrasive souls—fleeing as it arises, this fool with pride, this capital maniac:
(at lengths to ignore us, at tears to resort to us, while so close our distance
is evident): those letter vales, this alley of kittens, our connection with
apes: this mafia mentality, this
casual, perfect, inner mistake: our psychs feeling pains, our psychs feeling
features, our files so riddled as needing Ritalin: indeed, pushing towards
defenses, or listening to therapists, afraid that sights are correlated: (I’m
breathing, Love, I’m alive with caution, Love, and I’m indebted to forces
struggling to maintain It)….
I
adore this mind, I fret this mind, I find solace it repeating these brains: to
hear throats, to thrust through madness, to become a bit off-putting: as buried
inclinations, rewriting Initials, looking
for defeated for Love has conquered: our fair creatures, this wonderful ally,
this incredible front-board: our deadly rehearsals, this forward interview,
where at seconds it’s a second run: at bumps skipping, at feathers blackened,
or ravished for feeling this racial connection: our parents in graves, our
tables with plates, to witness ghosts nibbling: our daughter’s trestle, our daughter’s
armoire, our daughter’s credenza: at paranoid seconds, looking at something
foreign, to evolve slow to fathom: this old terror, this old damsel, to flex
for fluxed figuring upon our last kiss.
I
built a tussock, this clump of existence, to sense eyes running into rivers:
this deep infraction, while breathing, nonetheless, to feel guilty for having
something this embedded: those cries as laughter, this fool redeemed, our
glasses fogging with pressure: at back havens, or wilderness frontiers, to whittle
an entire encyclopedia: those lissome arms, those debated wrists, or granny so
intuitive to tug our grits: those sound feelings, that curious smile, as often
it came a whistle: our nectar wire, our Ezekiel Wheel, or this vest crying for
something that has life: but hell to phantasms, and more to reality, while
daily it comes laughing at resilience: this small night-bear, this occasional
influx, to retreat as looking at bars: this fool to needs, those treacherous
hangers, this resplendent Love: at purpose with feelings, at veils uncovering,
at thoughts so dear our islands have perished.
