…not
at all normal, or dearly my life, aching dysfunction: at loud cries, or silent
seas, our souls peddling whales: to carry dolphins, our fen or fins, allergic
to windy laughter: this deep infraction, this battle with happiness, or cursed
for grinning: abused, Soldier, or deeply frantic, Soldier, at graduation as now
a warrior, Soldier: those picture voices, those mothers mourning, at daughters
a bit too late: to exhaust morals, to claim ethics, with a tragic brain: ghetto
was deposited, rhapsody was terror, at disdain and glory—that glitter
flickering, those residues bleeding, to need something too trashy to maintain:
our nonplus guts, this fantast miracle, at father caressing splendor: or
granny’s return, just one kiss, at Easter Walls: or indelible words, pitted for
giggling, while less became a title for utter destruction: our ghetto mantras,
those trenchant soulprints, at tables grinding felicity: if but at Love, those
gorgeous features, while Love needed deepness—these inner cries, those
fireworks, at dialogue and melody….
I’ve become steel, I melt with signs, I bore into cedar-cries: our
winded glasses, our gut-binoculars, our mental telegrams: this interior phone,
those vein answering machines, or our Nebraska proselytes: such circuit ink,
such remarkable courage, while treading God’s hearth: this battle, Pa,
thereinto, this hut-gore, Pa, and never this much said, Pa—these welts
laughing, this happy miracle, at trunk and desperation: to retreat, for fields
are carnage, and bones are dancing: this frantic concern, this frantic star, at
granny claiming similarities: our deep eyes, our no-nonsense disposition, agog
by triumphant violins: these cymbals, Love, this core, Love, as wildflowers
touching success: this teaching frenzy, this money haven, alas, this trenchant
distrust: at chorus with life, at waltz with miracles, knee to pavement peeking
into this life-zone: if but to fly, this gentle war, with fire-ants tugging
mid-winds: so alive, so deceased, while playing a crucial position: to know his
lot, to know his capacity, while knowing for too much heaviness.
…we’ve
met, Mercy, we’ve drank Mercury, at terror gnawing upon Neptune: this loony
cartoon, we call it, Existence, while
seeping into existentialism: our proud sacrifice, our webbing koans, to write
with signals—our aphorisms, our metaphors, or this atypical preaching: those
legs, those eyes, those trespassing words: to creep with legacy, to invade at
terrors, or to stumble upon an evil human….
…these tears giggle, such hysteria, while slime drips to concrete: our
tragic friends, this tragic allotment, those tragic, magnanimous excuses: at mother
with venom, at daughter apologetic, our last request for a credit line: to waft
with Jesus, to curse at Jesus, to poke, prod, and press upon Jesus: this
Yahwistic Fire, those interior Yogis, or this flaming Mystic: our guts, our
eyes, our deaths feeling excitement: this hairy linchpin, those days to total
abandon, or this wild ass person: as there, watching, as there, needing, while
there, barely obedient: such apophatic
fury, or furious phantoms, where daughter became something distressed: to
explain: inner activity becomes outer energies; our brains mapping interior
realities; our guts thrusting pavement with pleas: if but to flourish, this
tragic reply, at guts flown into atmosphere: those silent, tacit, as sameness,
approaches—that phantom knot, this existence feeling like fiction, or your eyes
concentrated: that rising light, those white particles, at sudden an instance
proved interconnected: such filthy quilts, such stinky toes, or such
curiosities….
I
vow existence, this dedicated friend, this traveler carrying drama: as carrying
us, or carrying souls, at transmigration: those filed glares, those first
months, this indelible portrait: to hate as you hate, to love as you adore, or
to stressors simultaneously: our last challenge, our first omega, our starting line: as deep fire, our screaming winds, at
passage our first curse!
