I
gaze at mirrors, sensing something trefoil, at legendary chaos: I die at
instincts, those tears, those improper potty trainings: our women laughing, our
wives listening, at dark rooms with Candy Man: our learning empires, this
literary jewel, or neighbors leaking street business: at sherm valleys, at
leaves with detriments, or baffled about Love: that crazed email, those crazed
sentences, at rebuke and sentence: those bars giggling, this steel rambling,
our hankies splattered upon moons: this foolish triumph, to lose a daughter,
while mother remembers atrophies: our guts battling, this link in trembles,
where granny said it plainly: our sons bipolar, our sons fleeing, or dumped for
ruined and psychopathic: at psychs too much, those casual conversations, this
man running for hiding: that terrible dream, those terrible screams, or life
raised by Insanity: at truths abused, at pillaging treacherous, or gunning for
arrows while seeking Zen: those Gregorian Chants, this rant for raving, this
mother at diaries: if but to perish, while feeling goodness, at St. Paul
laughing at illusions: this drunk soul, this hip with beasts, or souls at pure
hatred: to die his guts, to hit his liver, or abandoned to teary eyed
daughters: to flip rings, to soar journeys, where life became magical: our
mystic grits, our courage with Sheriffs, our bowels while faced with maniacs:
those red rubies, those blue diamonds, at daughters disguised fully: those temperamental
allies, this psychologist watching, this therapist laughing: while Mercy
curdles, this cleaving profanity, at clamps un-graveled: aforementioned, this
crazed element, while one ponders those demons: this Catholic curse, those
pounding walls, as falling, but Love was addicted: those furniture curses, this
mirror screaming, those shards laughing: this ceiling at bays, those seas to
heaven, our skies raining mischief: as torn for currency, as ruined by dice,
those flapping Hearts of Queens: if but to chance, this life of miracles, while
daughter gauged a sufferer. I return
to mirrors, this pledged strategist, looking for damaged and pushing forward:
this normality curse, this birth through gods, while coming so close to pure
insanity: as losing control, or losing senses, upon Sunset dancing with Unsuspecting: our days to charisma, our
souls to midnights, at terrible frustrations: this psych as ruined, this psych
as reborn, this music so essential our guts are rattling: to watch with
patience, this child growing, to sense why mother abhors father: those deep
inclinations, those steep promises, to deceive a man angry for he caught wind:
this sick undercurrent, those deep profanities, to hate a man for running
towards freedom: at lengths disgusted, at lengths ruining nature, or so cursed
it’s difficult to realize deception: as bathing naturally, while fretted
frustration, to sense that everyone is pure sickness: our purple havens, our
turquoise dreams, our orange rainbows: as sick and psychotic, as high and
elevated, to begin mornings with a drag:
our hearts ruffled, our noise as bleeding, our daughters as picking through
habits: to drift with passion, to love with adoration, while Love is addicted
to nightmares: those foolish creatures, this everlasting crush, while Born
Again and sinning: indeed, with placation, to soothe God’s wrath, while so afar
from this perfect curse! I repeated us—this cedar
dissatisfaction, where reality meant so little: to know this mind, this insidious
rapture, where hell has become intimate: our thoughts with demons, our battles
with feelings, to slam a bowl and say about applications: this emotion as fuel,
those dreams as perils, while subconscious
is screaming at pictures: those mental funerals, this mental lecture, or
this inner orator: those epitomes, this nameless dungeon, this white crystal:
those few years, while Love was silent, as faithful as one week: those filaments,
this deep fatigue, at lassitude redeemed for escaping: but tired as hell,
wrecked emotionally, and screaming with angels: those faraway, upclose,
dungeons, this in-between, or that one woman so fair I ran: as suffused with
profanity, screaming in ink, and so compelled by fair aesthetics!
