…we
learn breath, we dance afar, we die resurrecting: this pensive design, our
winning battle, our losing beliefs: at mountains mourning, at glory roaring, at
films and media and lies—this purple plague, those cyan cuffs, or neighbors
entering dreams: as caged currency, or rage about guts, floored for shuffled:
our tears, Mother, our deaths, Father, our system with flaws: at internal
consensus, to move gentility, while suffocating from pride: our walks sneezing,
our odors wafting, while love winks like beauty: those fairer gems, those
fairer eyes, those fairer tendencies: at something tendentious, at something
scandalous, at something irrepressible: those casual grays, those deep
realities, where Love pled insanity: our rhythm shaded, this shrubbery of
spiders, this sheared goat: at life with vengeance, at terrors with passion, to
awaken to first thoughts: this incredible pain, this incredible nuance, those
incredible tentacles: while pulled and fumbling, or stumbling to altars, those
horns, my guts, this metaphorical nightmare: at glen deaths, or valley
blackness, where mother was thunder: at foreign islands, at foreign dungeons,
or admiring an unsighted flower: our deep infatuation, too steep for
resentment, too keen to readily discern: at ape calmness, at testy
intelligence, while straddled to caution: those flagrant, feminine eyes, those
fiery instincts, at tyranny and shame….
…some
speak literature, at pure allusion, where ghettoes speak rain: those traipses
through wretchedness, this happy curse, while cooking potato chips: our roaches
with venom, our dreams with passion, our teachers a bit towards therapy: at
timbre alley, at deep resonance, to carry on affairs and airs and pure
dissatisfaction: to need you, to die in you, to open a door and you disappeared:
this life as slanted, this grit and churning, our daughters our souls, our lost
connection: to pause and scratch, for Northern skin is dry, while aches and
treble penetrate our bone marrow: that intricate second, where Love shifted
personalities, while seekers needed such lessons: this essence in rain, those
years at hospitals, to awaken watching one chattering: or one possessed, and
filled with spirits, walking and glowing: that foggy horizon, this opening
interlude, our palms foreign to black souls: if but those brains, if but our
youth, prior to three kids and husband: if but total enthrallment, or total
enchantment, or total universality: therewith, this gunning instinct, to grip,
grab, and run afar: this pot of terrors, this delicate, strong, inflation, or
racing through mazes to arrive at brainstorms: our inclination, our dreams, our
robotic resistance: as something dying, while growing vigor, to arise as one
singing Infinity….
…hearts
thumped sceneries, our eyes flattened, our souls grew and fell to pieces: to
want something stale, as needing its life, to resuscitate something three days
deceased: to invade hell, to unchain apostles, to re-head St. Paul: this flurry
of complications, while drawn to old affairs, where such to aches as pain: our
writing frenzies, our publications, while rumors breed dissention: those
charming energies, this failing man, those failing winners: our chasm in
dungeons, our losing empires, our risks as something that had to exist: those
rusty red roses, those rusty red lips, where something possessed a slight odor:
as men going crazy, at souls inverted, at chains pleasured to love addiction:
this pictured moor (link), this moral erratic, those mongoose horizons: as
changed deeply, at Love with strife, at struggle muscling forward: this warm
nightmare, this cold glory, to taste for penchants and dying: those far
greetings, this aloof nature, if but to tug at something hidden: our daughters
learning, our mothers giggling, our fathers petrified: thither, this special
life, this familial life, those rubies pure insanity: as mother chances, our
infatuation dances, where we perish by dissatisfaction…!
