…acres
of pride, dedicated to winning, up against opposition: as destined to fail, or
outwit fatalities, as cultured and moving: those blue eyes, destined for
winning, those brown boxes: to die forever, looking for palms, and lifted by
something internal: such plight and blight, such terror and solace, at
something irregular: those aesthetics, this chiming miracle, our destined guts:
at Love with patience, at life with patience, while losing patience: this
swallowed camel, this flippant gnat, our filthy, rubescent cups: if but those
charms, if but our chambers, such ink-stained note-lives: this paradox, this
living curse, to wander this vineyard: our grapes and wines, our cheeses and
crackers, filled with such contempt: our solar attraction, this velvet green
turmoil, to realize something disdained is something tolerable: such sweet
radiance, such fluid internals, to touch as born to die: at rivers dreaming, at
Love aching, if but one death this sweet aroma: such lunar insanity, to blame
it upon something, to reinvent a particular wheel: those damning conversations,
or this impeachment, stenciled as a passing vision: to adore you, to die in
you, to lay claims to you: something exclusive, carrying depth, while Love was
reborn: this happy face, this glowing empire, this winning dynasty: our
soul-child, our memorable collage, our chiseled encyclopedia: our choice words,
our laughing revivals, our etching into feelings: this flicker fire, this deep
sire, or aborted for dusted laughing at orgasms: indeed, so sick with it, this
maniac lover, this tire rolling down Crenshaw: this lady in traffic, those
nights before, while some watch in pure envy: that first blast, that second
drink, or this veteran loyalty: as killing this child, to arise this man, where
Love is intimidating. …those blood
diamonds, this Penny & Brain, this Inspector
Gadget—at cartoons thinking, at children looking at responses, at daughter
filled with this dreaded fear: to die his guts, to restrict his guts, while
Love has watched for over a decade: this one that was, this one that dies, this
woman too afraid to fail: our bowels needing freedom, our freedom needing
chains, where mother died alone: at voiceprints, or abstract admiration, to
have met you ten years prior: his woman laughing, his woman giggling, while men
watch needing cultivation: this constant war, this moral soul, those deep
anxieties: to cut loose, to retract, to redeem a slew of unethical ethics: this
flying kite, this floating father, to have lost more than containable: if but a
ghost, flights to success, this fire at brains: those hearts, Love, this flame,
Love, while I thought to a sudden miracle: this Christian empire, this biblical
hour-dance, while cut for ruined and bleeding acid…. …are we there, watching mudslides, and
nibbling inconsistencies: this fool with beasts, this lyric with Precious, this
maniac lover: to choke and die, to pull and yank, to ask a dozen questions:
indeed, mother’s son, father’s name, and running chaos: this basin with tears,
this windowpane exploration, those butterflies laying stillness: this daughter
at sunrise, this daughter I forsook, this daughter we need: as gunning through
traffic, this deep chameleon, while changing at every light: in tragic gains,
while tragic was fair, to emit a certain essence: this arrow running, this
cupid laughing, at psych with trepidation: but hell to reason, and hell to
facts, I needed more guts: this flight with police, this run through ghettoes,
leaping for jumping a fifty dollar bill: to erase privilege, to sip remorse, at
money with something dying: this large bill, this throw with dice, to hit and
get rabid…. I met my face, I tore
ambition, I shed inhibition—this fool with it, this manic nightmare, this full
pledged conservative: this contradiction, this loud music, this interior Sade:
as swinging to Malibu, or trespassing Newport, while headed to Watts: as livid
a curse, and losing friends, to renegotiate with this inner leprechaun: those
towers, this watchful brother, as unknown and tailgating: this rearview, this
night-balance, this last glass: at Love observing, to imagine her husband, as
Love saw, sought, and developed Eternity!
