I
bungee feelings, I armoire life, I love as Superman: this field of demons, this
light of deaths, this bolt, this gut, this emotion: those rubies, this science,
those recruited motions—as livid insanity, or granny’s omen, while gripping for
losing grips: at terrors, this mischief maniac, while Love spoke about
forgiveness: at clocks pushing, at deaths recruiting, so disappointed Love is
comical: those flippant airs, as yanking sky-rise, to fret our moon-cries: this
terrible man, for thoughts were hay-tears, and horses were scared to gnaw: this
goad, this Damascus, this road furious with deliveries: our first child, those
wild hearings, or so close this running medallion: hereto, this furious bullet,
this inner blast, at rounds gutted survival: as one flailed, as one sick, at
something concerning distrust: to hate his guts, to hope God’s watching, if but
my feelings: irrational souls, irrational deal breakers, while infuriated
hating his mind: blood blue, burgundy midnight, this russet gremlin: our bloody
faces, our palms with hatchets, to awaken screaming at maniacs: to floor life,
to excite motion, at something too clear, I ignore!: pay it backwards, recite
it forward, or catch hell while crazy our grimy slime infested guts. I laugh loudly, I sigh heavily, I jimpy
mentality—those hells, those bars, while reciting demons: this inner you, this
failed us, while never an opportunity: those waves, those ways, this fool at appearances:
this skeptic, this maniac, those humble his hearts: at rivers with Zen, at
heaven with Christians, at Krishna with Hindus: this manic lieutenant, this
manic psych, this manic universe—to have experience, to chunk a fist, to
reverse into our uterus: this product, this dreg warrior, at thoughts catching
missiles: (I make it good, I make it worse, I do this name): as running in
terrors, as gutted an apparition, to dissect a ghost: at gore and mayhem, to
scream into fantasy, while love nudged us to awaken: this fool listening, this
calm adversary, while so sick it feels goodness: those loses, those treasures,
this more for little: indeed, this sick woman, this sicker man, and having
babies: thither, this curse, and thither, this prodigy, and hither, this failed
lieutenant!
I
felt speedy, I felt anger, I needed elation: this trenchant reality, this
long-life, our interior battle: this sad passion, this event in brains, this
carnival at arms: our mothers by difference, our deep disbelief, as churned unto
blatant hatred: indeed, I lie with angst, I turn with vehemence, and I dislike
dissatisfaction: believe this man, and die this man, and forgive this man: or
else my guts, or else my Jesus, or else my despise: if but a strong one, if but
a lost one, than find Love and redirect this catastrophe: but never to hate, to
turn entirely, to believe love is prevalent: our Barnabas talk, our Theca
revival, at Leah negotiating one last night: this Esau, this Isaac, this old
feeling: as ancient and gutted, as ruined and flying, while lawyers are running
from bleach: this miracle bird, this unborn phoenix, this uterus sphinx: at
pyramids debating, at griffins laughing, at Love too close for physicality:
thither, our yanked souls, this flippant mentality, or this woman so at bay
it’s hard to swim: at eagles whispering, at jinni one-sided, at Love a
headache—those glorious cries, those marveled wings, at feathers painting
intuition!
…football
brains, or linking in chains, to admire what you accomplished: this failed lieutenant,
this winning maniac, or this losing father: at God with questions, deep dark
nights, to twilight into an air: paying retribution, for mother cried, and son
lost his navel: this core belief, this mother as knowing, where behave or lose
access: indeed, a pure tyrant, a manic official, at bars and deaths speaking in
rebellion: to drown upon words, to rejuvenate upon kef, as fated and delivered:
this long run, this baseball drama, while half of LA loves our Dodgers: but
what for life, this incriminating poem, this long range prosaic…!
