…in
a dark humor, attempting creativity, attempting a discreet sermon: at Love
barking, a real dog, but sophisticated: those purple/blue skies, those
red/brown skies, or that burgundy/orange horizon: to give this life, to awaken
peering at hope, to need for something in blood: those genetics, those tasty
sentiments, or this caged existence: at existential blights, at epistemic
plights, or rummaging old feelings: this reckless morsel, those Salty Saltines,
at Peanut Butter Cookies: our plank and haven, this campus of sheep, or sensing
one ill-prepared: at grass with grins, at grasshoppers whispering, to release
mementoes into winds: this glen lake, those treacherous meadows, those
beige/green responses: at mechanics laughing, at realism chiming, to feel a
hearty discussion: this low libido, this gratified essence, while looking at
naked flesh: this marvelous dove, this creative minx, or so sick about
integrity: at years losing, at millennia winning, to hear gates slamming: this
thrumming turquoise, this maroon table, or this psychical trestle: as one for
sameness, but nuances sting, to meet something too enchanting: those telic
eyes, those gracious eyes, of eyes so embedded we feel particles: at
hazel-browns, at midnight insecurities, as a woman glances peering at her body:
to need appraisal, to need worship, to melt and fall forward: our humors
changing, our deaths amazing, our daughters rummaging through manuscripts:
those blank eyes, such rich depression, to effect a gentle response: thereto,
such reaching aches, at granny surprised, at grandpa pleading mercies: this
fool Pagan, this instant Hebrew, to change rites and culture: at terrible hunches,
at terrible demons, or terrible rationalities: those monads, this small atom,
those large agreements: this molecule maniac, those small instincts, those
small tell-tell signs: at something gentle, those office discussions, while
responses become deliberate: a master of honesties, a loser in this war, a
winner in this kingdom…. I adored a dove, I adore a swan, I
paused and lost insanity: I chiseled a notion, I spoke to psychs, I felt
remorse: I hid as running, I gnawed my cheeks, I felt lumps: our blurry
glasses, this man knowing his culture, those loses fretting his brains: at dry scalp, at tyranny city, or
gunning with persistence: our absolutes, freaking our boats, while rowing
insanely: those begging whales, those deep barriers, while Love forgives those
ruined and pleading and dying and requiring resuscitation: such deep ruins, such octopus
realities, or at underwater spiders: those terrible seahorses, this fabulous
Creator, to imagine God in a good humor: therewith, our gray projections, our
sensitive replies, our first-person determining our interpretations: at oily
nostrils, at oily situations, at myriad attitudes: this angry society, this
awkward behavior, to indentify unknowingly: our
brains, Love, our bowels Love, if but this imperfect reunion: where mother is
unsettled, and stepfather is reading Christ, as siblings are begging insights:
at jasper realities, this vague insistence, while Love felt so inquisitive. …those vanguard eyes, that meditated
approach, to have given such richness: those feelings dying, those others
arising, while Love looked incredible: those seconds, those minutes, or those
hours to perfecting justice: those legs, those hips, or those internal
binoculars: this incredible woman, to place it simplistically, while pulled for
maintaining healthy relations: at immortal instincts, but enslaved deeply,
while Love had a thought: at internal chimneys, spliced for opened, where
sexuality has its measure: our Chris Tucker laughter, our Jada Pinkett beauty,
while realizing certain realities: this vague plateau, those amazing
characteristics, to exude as looking forward: this need to enchant, this want
to seduce, or this need to protect our lives: thither, this man watching, such
beauty wafting, such by derrière—those pensive/open legislators, those
closed/mis-perfected blenders, or so lost for needing an open survivor: at guts
laughing, at guts crumbling, or gutted for ruined by a mere gesture: this deep
misnomer, to become suspicious—of women in-tuned with every nuance: this perfect
fool, this maniac laziness, or one determined to create romance: as blighted
and skating, or skating and gunning, while Love is amazing, sickly.
